The other night, I was pleasuring myself and was going to turn my thoughts over to my current obsession (see last post). Then I realized fantasizing is for quitters. I’ve done this a million and a half times; dreaming and painting this beautiful picture on a canvas that is my mind. And when the paintbrush thoughts are put away on their shelves, I sit back and admire my picture. It needs to stop.
A picture is a picture is a picture. Nine times out of ten, fantasies don’t come true. Okay, I made that up, but think about it. When was the last time one of your fantasies came true?
I realized that I could keep how I feel locked up inside and dream about the boy I want in my bed. I could secretly wish for those Christian Audigier shoes (they are hot though). I could yearn for the chance to pursue something creatively stimulating in a cutthroat field, a cutthroat world, a cutthroat life.
Average life span is around 80 some odd years. Why dream about what I want as opposed to going out and getting it. I refuse to wait till the next lifetime to get what I want out of this lifetime. Maybe it’s living in New York that’s giving me this “take what you want” attitude, but it’s all clear. Life is too short to dilly dally and dream. Dying is easy; living is hard. Forget the skeletons in your closet and show off your live bodies. Are those last two lines morbid? My bad.
1 comment:
"it's dead easy to die, it's the keeping on living that's hard." - Robert Service from The Quitter. My favorite line from my favorite poem.
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