A Collection of Spectacles

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The Defense Mechanism that I Abuse

Or,

The Broken Apparatus that I Continuously Repair: Somehow I’ve developed a habit of daydreaming on purpose.  I’ve honed the technique to the point that I can utilize it to engage in conversation, via this shell of a body, while simultaneously traveling elsewhere in my mind. The body’s experiences are usually lackluster at best, while the mind lives a more exhilarating existence. I’ve come to enjoy these fathomed trips to paradisiacal nowheres more than anything I’ve experienced thus far. Needless to say, something’s not right. What that is exactly, remains to be seen. 

I was in a store one day and a mom slapped her kid across his cheek. I don’t remember what he did to “deserve” it. I only remember the brief exchange  after:

‘Why’d you hit me?’

‘Cause I’m your mom. If I don’t hit you, who else’s gonna?’

In other news: I don’t think I’ll entertain any fancies as of now. Things happen best if they are allowed to happen.

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