Over the past couple of weeks I haven't had much to say. It's a first I assure you. I know I'm not done telling you my goofy stories. I know there are things going on my life I'd like to write about. So why can't I just sit down and do it? I don't know. Have I completely lost my mojo? My ability to express myself? My humor? My bawdiness? Nah. I'm just in a rut because nothing really good has happened lately. The man is still out of work. Six months now. My business is slow, very slow. Things kind of blow right now and I'm tired. Really really tired. A lot.
But I have a fantasy world that I escape to. Where money isn't a concern, it's just there when needed. In fact, in my fantasy world I never think of money at all. I can spend it if needed or not. I can shop or not. I can go out to eat or cook for myself. It's a happy place, my fantasy world, where I'm thin and happy. When I'm there I think about sex. A lot of sex, which I guess makes it a lot like my real world in that way. But my fantasy world takes me to a place where all I have to think about is happiness and pleasure and none of the day to day drudgery that I seem to be facing lately. It sounds like a pretty great place to go. And he's there. The one I dream about. The one who dreams about me. And we're living, loving and fucking. It's an amazing dream that gives me moments of happiness hope when so often lately I feel hopeless.
I don't know where the fantasy world is but it's not Akron, Ohio. In my dream of dreams, I don't dream of living here. It's not that I dislike it, it's that it's not a place I feel I belong. At times I think I'm destined for greatness. And whether or not that sounds egotistical, is not a concern to me. Greatness doesn't come from Akron, unless you're Chrissie Hynde or Lebron James. Do I have a destiny really? Or do I have delusions of grandeur. At 45 years old, is this my mid-life crisis? A crisis where I'm just sick of my life and want to leave it all behind and start over? Can't I just be like a guy and buy a fucking motorcycle and be done with it? Why the introspection? Why the feelings of utter failure? Where do I go from here?
I have no doubt that I am loved by the people in my life. And yet, there's always something missing. Something that is just out of my reach. Something I want to achieve. Somewhere I want to be. And it aches deep inside that I cannot get to it. I don't know where to go to find it. I don't know how to make it happen. And I feel helpless and weak. I feel failure. I feel like I'll never know what it is and wonder. Wonder what it could be that I'm missing. Will I always wonder?