real is relative

July 17, 2007 at 10:31 pm (Uncategorized)

hmm, someone mentioned to me recently (rather, they were telling a coworker and i was listening in) that one way to fight insomnia is to keep a journal. before bed, just sit and basically pour everything in your head into the journal. sorta a mind cleansing, via verbal vomiting. or written vomiting, but the alliteration isn’t as good. the point is that i wonder if my late night blogs come from this need to get random thoughts out of my head before going to sleep. if nothing else, they tend to be more interesting and/or surreal, so they make for interesting reads later.

anyway, i’ve been thinking a lot about getting into writing fiction. i mean, my blogs are just so interesting that it’s a natural step, right? actually the truth is that i find the world in my head to be much more desirable a place to be than the world i physically live in. in my head, there’s no monotony, there’s no family drama, no bills, no patronizing, passive aggressive people telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. it’s funny, as a kid i dreamt of becoming a super hero (’cause what child of the 80s didn’t?), but even now, i still love wondering just what it would be like to jump from building top to building top while chasing down whatever demon or bad guy that has pissed me off. this is, of course, quite hilarious, since i’m 25, out of shape, and really kinda boring, not to mention the fact that i’m a generally non violent, relaxed person. what self respecting ninja turtle would want to hang out with me? even so, i can’t help retreating to my daydreams any chance i get.

what worried me for a while after my parents’ accident was that i couldn’t seem to get back into my normal mode of day dreaming- it was like i just didn’t have the imagination for it any more. i can’t remember when i started day dreaming properly again, but i know that i’m back on track now. with out my silly little fantasy worlds, i would probably go insane, assuming i’m not a little insane already. when a coworker excitedly blurted out that i most likely had diabetes, based on the color of my armpits (…), i freaked out so much that the only thing that kept me sane was retreating as far as possible into my day dream self. no diabetes in my fantasies, just super heroes and bad guys. turned out there’s no diabetes in my real life, either, but the point is that i don’t know what i would’ve done with out the on going adventures in my head to keep me distracted from real life.

the problem with having such an interesting fantasy version of myself is that when i do get pulled back into reality, it pales in comparison. who wouldn’t rather retreat to day dreaming when their real life counterparts work in a field with no opportunity to make any real money, but where there are many potential health risks; or where they realize that their family members still all believe them to be a small child, and patronize them justly; or where they realize that their fiancee will never be willing to be as adventurous (travel-wise, naughties! or even just life-wise) as they are? not to mention the lack of purpose and never ending amount of grief that comes along with a real life.

see, i have to start writing. if i don’t, i might have to start an emo band, and none of my fantasy selves enjoy emo.

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