My Life, Reality or Fantasy?
I wonder sometimes if all I was meant to do was to take care of the house, kids, mate, and bring home the bacon. I get up every morning, take the kids to school, go to work, clean the house, and be expected to perform all kinds of duties. I quit!
I want to move to a place where there aren’t the demands that suck the life out of me. I am always sick and tired; yes both meanings go into that phrase. Here is my fantasy. Get up, take a nice walk to breathe in the fresh air; pour caffeine in my veins, and later pick up that book I bought six months ago, and actually read it. My kids would pick up after themselves and my mate would actually pull his own weight. Is there such a place that really exists?
Some say it does while the masses say “get real”. I don’t want to “get real,” why can’t there be life that is fulfilling. Do we all have such duplicate lives that we all start sharing the same ideal of what life is? Does fairy tales and happy endings only come true on the big screen? I don’t think that I live in my own fantasy world because in reality I don’t. If I did, I would be writing a much different story. I once had thought that life was about love, happiness and excitement. Over time I allowed myself to get sucked into the reality world that most people believe is the world we live in. Today I want out, but tomorrow will start all over again as the reality of what I want and what I do takes over again.
Okay, now someone pass me the prozac!