Day-Dream Believer

I used to believe that my day-dreams were just as important as living life, perhaps more so, as to an extent I was in control. I believed that to imagine something was as good as reality itself, as one could still take pleasure from it. I even convinced myself that these day-dreams were real. The problem was that not only were the day-dreams often very similar, but the pleasure was always a passing moment. So afterwards I often felt sad and depressed about it, and then believed I felt this way because I was back in the really real, physical world, without realising it was because of the falseness of the imaginary world.

Fortunately, I realised that these dreams were not pleasurable experiences, they were attempts at gaining power and control.

I still day-dream occasionally, but now have the capacity to interrupt it, and to see the dangers of living life in a day-dream. That is not to say that it is bad to let the mind wander - one must just be careful not to confuse two worlds.

A Secret Story

Some stories simply cannot be written, only spoken. There is a short episode that I have told to a few people, and decided to write it down, seeing as I have always had the response of it being such a nice story. However, on attempting to write it the story became as damp as the patch on my living-room wall. All the pleasantness from the memory of the episode, and even of my re-telling of it, vanished. So, reader, you will never read the story, nor will I ever disclose what story it is.

But I am not unhappy about this, after all, some stories cannot be told at all.

(The secret, then, is not the story itself, but which story it is that could not be written.)

Pictures of Pompeii

The progression of civilisation puzzles me somewhat, as with it we no longer have such beautiful floors.

Pompeii Floor 5

Pompeii Floor 4

Pompeii Floor 3

Pompeii Floor 2