Every now and then I become caught up in my own disappointments such as bills, work, family and friends. In that state of mind I loose heart quite easily and become a hollow shell. Its an old habit I picked up as a child. A rich imaginary world where no harm could come to me.
As an adult its easy to fall back into this world and take from it the bones of a good story. Strange as that may sound the worst things that have ever happened to me in this life have helped feed my creativity and there is seldom a loss that can shake my foundation.
I’ve been poor. Been bullied. I’ve failed miserably at more things than I’d like.
As child when I used to fear the dark of night not sure if I should see the morning always worried that a monster would rip through my bed (thanks Freddie for that imagery). As an adult I’ve laid in bed thinking what if those monsters were true? What if I wake up to Freddie and his absurd shear-like fingers, what would I do?
Gotta tell you that if I do ever have the pleasure of meeting him in the dark of my bedroom at least then I don’t have to worry about those damn bills.
That thought alone gets me to sleep. There is a up side to everything.