Lately, I have often caught myself dazing off, daydreaming into a new world, a new place where everything is exactly the way I want it to be. I'm not sure what has brought this up, whether it be the stress of university life, or other personal issues, but I just find myself automatically escaping to this new world. It's always perfect. I have all the clothes I could ever want, shoes, necklaces, accessories, a job working for the NYTimes, or CNN while studying Journalism in grad school. A dog. (Arnold). A charmingly small apartment in the West Village, a boyfriend, etc.This world seems to be all I see, all I think about. I'm becoming obsessed with this dream; it clouds out all of the pressing issues that I have to deal with now. Right now.
It hangs over me, like something I jump to grab, but miss by almost nothing. But each time my feet hit the ground again, I know that if I put just a little bit more spring into my step, I'll reach it. I'll reach it I tell ya, I'll reach it.
Jump jump jump. I can never grasp it.
But it surrounds me. It clouds me in. It's my happy place. It's my go to place. It's my place.
I've realized that I live in my imagination.
I think I'm going crazy.
Maybe it's being home for vacation.
Next semester, I'll land my feet back on the ground. My sorry brown flats will hit a concrete sidewalk block in NYC. I'll be grounded. And focused. And then one day my silly daydream might become a reality.
"With a whole bunch of real life complications of course," she says as she shrugs her shoulders to herself.
BISOU
Fréd
