Friday, December 30, 2011

the home of grand delusion

Sometimes I like to imagine an alternate version of me. Like when someone talks about taking the train to work, and it is so far removed from my reality, that I think that person must lead an interesting life. I imagine myself in their shoes. Maybe I live in a charming little flat, all by myself.  It could be decorated with bright, quirky items - all thrown together with reckless abandon.  In this version, I have a vintage buggy sitting underneath my small roofed car port, which is surrounded by green garden, random flowers and herbs, all growing together in chaotic fashion.  I don't take the car to my nondescript job - on no, the petrol  is far too costly - I'm working in the city so I'm to take public transport. Maybe on the way, I'll listen to some music - hum to myself , or read a book, one that makes me seem terribly intriguing to the people who see me with it.  My train is always pleasant, no one is ever squished or forced to stand armpit to armpit. Maybe while I'm on the train, I'll meet someone nice to chat with - we'll talk about the weather, and my book.  I might share a smile with a handsome office worker who exits the train - we see each other most days; I'm sure we'll break the silence eventually - he's probably my soul mate, and he thinks I'm beautiful.

I get to my job - undoubtedly it's menial, but inspiring to me - maybe it's a funky book shop, or a sweet little cafe (in this reality my waitressing skills are great). On my lunch break I'll walk down to the park, seated on a bench, I will quickly eat my lunch and spend the rest of my time doodling words and wavy lines in my little notebook.  I like to write in my spare time.

I have a lovely little dog waiting for me at home, who wags her tail with great enthusiasm when she hears me unlocking the door - I can see her through the glass panel on my door. We listen to loud music, and dance around the kitchen as I make dinner - I'm a great cook. When the evening is done, we retire to bed - I read aloud awhile. When the room is dark, I lay awake in the quiet - reviewing my day, and thinking about tomorrow.  I think about how I'm a little lonely - but then I remember I am happy doing charming things in my charming home; the way I like - just me and my little dog. I remember life is easier without other people to worry about.  I'm like Bridget Jones, minus the booze, the smokes, the friends and the sex.

SB xx

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