Friday, January 26, 2007


I miss my fantasy life. Not the one of teenage variety (that one wasn't that much anyway). No, I miss watching Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica as a 8 year old and feeling the way the show's soundtrack moved me to want to fly in the stars. Sometimes, listening to the music in my car, or with Alexander I get those flashes of how it felt to dream like that. Its difficult to hold onto it for very long. Immediacy and responsibility tie you to the ground as if you were formed with it millions of years ago.

I truly believe that I've been cursed with good long-term memory. Sure it helps out in Trivial Pursuit games, but with technicolor and THX surround-sound recall of past events intimidates and frustrates me more often than not. Coupled with the sense of ultimate responsibility for when things go wrong...I get to enjoy that sense of "what could I have done to forgo this feeling of failure" on a continual daily basis.

Even at night my subconscious loves dredging up times in which I said the wrong thing, did the wrong action, killed the wrong butterfly that spurred the wrong hurricane across the world. There can be a case stated (not a very good one I might add) for taking drugs to just shut the whole thing down for a time. A brief respite from reliving life. Thank God I'm not this poor woman: Link.

But I can't do that. And the staff report has to be done. The house needs to be cleaned. The responsibilities have to be accomplished. In this strip center, highway sign existence we've doomed ourselves to inhabit.

And I'll get to remember it all. Forever.

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