Elsewhere

I know I’ve said this before. I know you’ve heard it all before. I know I am not the only one to say these things. I know I am not the only one who’s weary, tired, frustrated. I wish I had the cure. I wish I had the answer to weariness. My instincts tell me just to go away. Run away. Get away. Be away. Away from all things familiar. Away from life as usual. I try to get away from reality on a regular basis. I put my IPod headphones in whenever I can. I go back to my room and put a DVD in my DVD player and veg-out. I read fiction. I know that reality is good. I know it is necessary. So why do I try to get away from it so often? Why do I dread reality? Why do I like to escape. The word escape means to succeed in avoiding (any threatened or possible danger or evil). It’s not that I believe reality is full of danger and evil. I think my real belief is that reality is so full of nothing. Everyday, all the same. There are some things that happen. A baby is born, a game is won, a job is lost, a life ends. But, even those things sometimes fall into the “everyday, all the same.” In this economy everyone is losing their jobs, looking for a new job, or trying to hold on to the job they have. People die everyday, it’s a part of life. There seems to be a baby boom right now and there seems to be babies everywhere. And, sports are usually used as an escape from the everyday hum-drum so watching or playing a good game is in essence trying to avoid reality. I guess I’m an escapist, a person who escapes into a world of fantasy. Other words for escapist are dreamer and wishful thinker. That describes me perfectly. I dream about a life full of adventure and excitement and I imagine great and wonderful things. Then I wake up from my dream, night dreams and day dreams, and I see how my life really is. Day after day the same thing. No where near the life I imagine for myself. It’s frustrating. I know that the story God would write for me is better than any story I could write for myself but His stories are steeped in reality and I am not ready to read that story right now. I like my daydreams. I wish they were real but I know they are too outlandish to be real but it’s fun to rest in those dreams sometimes.

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