The line between my real life and my fictoral life has begun to blur.
It's not because I don't like the life I have now. Don't get me wrong, even though my life is one large glowing orb of all the matter that makes up life (stress, family, pride, greed, anger, happiness, love, etc.) , I still quite love it.
However, I cope better in my fictoral life.
To be able to slip away, to be anyone or anything I want to be, the feeling is something you have to experiance yourself to understand.
I am in my 20th winter of life. Meaning I am no longer a child. So why do I keep slipping off into the world my childhood self marveled in?
In my opinion, the real question is why did we ever stop? Why cant we grab sticks and act out Robin Hood or just close our eyes when swimming in the creeks warmed by the summer sun and imagine we are mermaids?
My fictoral world is just as real to me as my real world. It hurts me to be away from it sometimes.
Yet I know that when things are so terrible I could SCREAM, I can go find a closet to sit in and close my eyes and be in a world of wonderful mythical creatures. I could have a conversation with Athena or Eros. I could see my grandfather, who passed on before I was ready to say goodbye.
To you, I may seem like a woman who has fallen off the deep end. However, I'd like you to know that I didn't fall, I jumped! Willingly into the far less complicating world of imagination.
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