getting caught up in a fantasy world of your own making is a job hazard for writers. i am sure that people who are old hand at this writing game do a very good job of seperating the world of their own creation from the world that they actually have to live in.
me, i’m still pretty new to the game so the mistakes i make are plenty. compliments make me cocky and feed my fantasy. last night the fantasy world of my creation and the world that i have to live in came crashing together and the fallout has left me a little bruised and shaken.
the fact that i can wholly convince myself that my fantasy world is the actual world i live in is either a talent or an awful curse. after two hours of sleep and entirely more alcohol than needed, i can’t quite tell which it is.
it’s funny that at nearly 32, i still think i have the power to will something into being just by the sheer force of my want. if last night were the want olympics, i’d have the gold medal around my neck.
but now, today, in the harsh sunlight of morning i have to deal with the real world and not the one of my making. my fantasy world lies around me burning rubble. i’m thinking of asking george to declare it a national disaster area– giving me a few bucks so i can sit down and see if there’s anything i can salvage.
i can’t seem to think straight. my thoughts are jumping around almost as much as my emotions. one of the things the TTHM told me about my blog is that i should process things a bit more before writing about them. i guess it’s time to process.
these things i do know: i had fun, i feel like crying, my stomach hurts, and i need a nap.