Sometimes when I eat I want to enjoy it feeling delighted as I devour and drink my soft drink without lying in bed later with the remains getting lost coming back up making me want to run to the sink.
Sometimes when I watch tv I sometimes imagine myself in the show wondering what role I’d play and what sarcastic remark I’d give.
Sometimes when I listen to music I’m not just feeding notes and words to my ears I’m imagining a world a world of whimsy, melancholy and the bizarre.
Sometimes when I read a book I visualise what’s happening and sometimes end up sobbing
But then I go too far
I forget my fantasies don’t exist, that I’m not a celebrity that actually fits into a clique closing my eyes seeing things that aren’t happening like a festival or a hug or a fun get together but dreaming up my scenarios whether they are good or bad makes me feel alright
Turn down my sight I’m going on a journey whether it’s space or another decade or events that wouldn’t happen in real life as soon as I open my eyes there’s not much light
I can’t erase the blurred lines, is this fantasy or my mind playing tricks on me
When it’s time to turn off the lights it gives me a little fright
I’m not dancing to new wave beats in a club right out of the eighties I’m binge watching britcoms ignoring how my mind doesn’t like seeing me be happy making me itch uncontrollably
I’m not being given hugs or celebrating a sleepover I’m whinging about how shadows of my past are making me feel like my life is over
I’m not another Ziggy stardust planning another mission I’m a wannabe political anarchist that when it comes to what identity I am I cannot make my decision.
I’m not flying through the sky like a anime character feeling ecstatic I’m waiting in the middle of a busy road distracting myself from traffic
Not every day is a trip to wonderland even though I’m clean and straight edge sometimes my head is hazy like sand,feeling so lost and whacked in my fictional club I’m having fun and having the time of my life where as in a real life club I’d feel unsafe and so out of place.
I enjoy discussions not the ongoing arguments with my brain where there’s nothing to gain
I don’t know who I am,they say be yourself,I try to but how can I express me if my fear of expectations and judgement reminds me that there’s nothing to see
I’m just a robot when I’m given or want to do a task I’ll perform,if I’m needed somewhere I go but unlike a robot I don’t know my purpose why must I wander everywhere?
You aren’t a child anymore my fantasies might make me a decent future author
But not in society’s favour every day comes a time to turn off the lights it’s not beautiful,or glamorous or living a teenage dream sometimes I’m not fond of what’s in my sight as my sun has no beam