Sweet dreams are made of this

Sweet dreams are made of this

Amy February 18, 2008


There is an unerring design – perhaps design fault – of my character that rejects reality on the basis that the worlds I can create in my head sometimes prove the most attractive places to be.

I did this a lot when I was younger. I used to have stacks and stacks of ‘Horse and Pony’ books by my bed and would fall asleep imagining that I had won a gymkhana on a grey pony named Strawberry. Later, when the realities of being a teenager didn’t turn out to be the ‘idealistic journey of self discovery and romance’ I had envisioned, I lived my life through programmes like Dawsons Creek (sad though that is) as a substitute to what I thought should really be going on in my life. Now, at the grand old age of 26, I still find myself escaping into fantasy land, although (apart from the odd ‘Creek’ boxset in my DVD pile) my methods of withdrawal have become a little more sophisticated, manifesting themselves currently as copies of ‘Ideal Home’ magazines and films/books about travelling.

I think it is testament to the addition of more good things to my daily itinerary that my desire to escape has progressively become reduced, and for this I am glad. There still are times though, normally as a result of some trivial personal mental crisis that I still drift off into the never never lands I can so easily create for myself – pretty much because no one can touch me there. This is my coping mechanism I guess, not a very helpful one in solving any problems I agree, but it’s a darn sight cheaper than vodka.

So where is this all leading? I think I have just realised for myself today that whereas there are dreams that you aspire to and work towards achieving, there are some that should be left untouched for the simple reason that sometimes you need a place to go when you are sad or lonely or if things just don’t seem to go your way. Even if it is just in your head.

I’m not sure why I’m telling you this to be perfectly honest, and I think it very unlikely that anyone will care about the erratic nature of my brain. For some reason though I just felt the need to share this weird realisation with someone other than the office pot plant (see below)…..

Plus with numerous tales of working and Planning and mental boredom recently, I kind of felt I owed it to you to say something a little bit different.

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