Have you ever looked at someone and thought, "What the actual f***"?
I wake up every morning and look at the dusty mirror that leans against the wall opposite my bed. I had originally put it there so that I could see how I looked in new clothes, that was when I actually gave a s***. I think my problem was that I just had no motivation to do much of anything. I was sluggish and bored with my insubstantial life. I wake up and wonder what the point of getting out of my bed is exactly. I am confronted by the glaring truth each day that I gaze forlornly at that desolate mirror. I have tried to reason with it's cold glass eyes a number of times. The only answer I ever get is "You". I am that person that I stare at and ask "what the actual f*** happened to you?". To be honest, I have no idea. I thought it was the heartbreak after my girlfriend broke up with me. I danced around the idea that my grades were to blame for my piss-poor attitude. I even used my rock-hard bed as a scapegoat. Again and again I ultimately circled back to the one true cause, "You". I tried to change and be nice and be that guy that everyone liked, which lasted all of a day. I just didn't have the energy to deal with all of my demons. I go to school everyday and listen to my friends complain about how bad they have it, only to turn around and not care anymore. Their problems are their problems, right?
I started to drift off during a conversation with my English teacher one day. It was during this that I found the ultimate escape; Dreamland. I would run to this mystical universe every time my mom got on my back about college or my brother was just being a douchè. It was here, in my own world of imagination, that I found peace. I could tap into the dreamscape anytime I wanted. I would look at the clouds and float away on a parasail made of smoke and starlight. I could be anyone, do anything, see whatever filled my inner screen at the time of departure. I could climb the tallest tower or swim the deepest ocean with only a thought.
Through my travels I had learned a few things. I knew that whatever I was thinking about had to be positive or I would resurface and be lost in thought forever. I had realized that I had to stay semi-awake during my jaunts or else some rude a**hole would tap me and yank me from my daydream. I had started to love my journeys more than my actual life. I guess that is why I never went back. I found a dark corner of the world when I was 23 and just never crawled out. Day after day of endless tales and stories filled my head. I started to wonder if I had found true happiness or if this was just a different version of "You".
