In general, reality intrudes abruptly. A blow to the head, a slap across the face. A sting that stays a few more undesired seconds or minutes. It guarantees to leave a mark and hopes to keep you in place, because there is no room for dreamers like you. But I never learn, and in any case, reality's attempts were never before successful. It would be a lie to say that this thing I do is not a talent. I wouldn't call it daydreaming because I associate that term with tweenish girls. It's more of an obsession with placing myself in pleasant situations which haven't happened and have no chance of ever occurring. I could never even put into words these ideas and thoughts that come to me and I accept open-armed. Packaged with such elaborate sensory details and interesting dialogue! At the same time, it has to be one of the most destructive things that I can possibly do to my mind. Sitting on the edge of a rooftop, during one of my recluse moments, I was slowly grounded to this world. I wasn't caught off guard, though. Instead the mental pictures I was toying with and enjoying dissolved before me. Like the film of a movie projected slowly combusting or lighting a paper on fire. It starts with small brown burn marks until the fire catches on and all that remains is a flame to marvel at. That is how I felt, the dream was gone, but instead of marveling or feeling hurt towards the truth, I was willing to accept it and admit I did not like it. I am currently in the process of changing "this truth" I stumbled on, and I know it will be a long and bumpy road to follow along with a strenuous amount of work and dedication, but I am excited to fucking ride it and see where I end up.