So you’re staring a fantasy right in the face. It’s tantalizing, exotic, provoking and just well a fantasy. You can think of it late at night before you go to bed and it can be what ever you want it to be, because you don’t REALY know anything of it. So your mind is free to run amuck with different ideas of should’a could’a would’a all you like with no penalty at all.
Then by chance of all chances, the fantasy gets a bit closer and you can really start to see things, as the light gets brighter and it steps away from the mysterious mist of the world in your head and into the world you live in.
At first, because of the blinding light of truth, you can’t see shit but you’re terribly excited about the notion of something so wonderful maybe becoming a reality. The heart races, skin stands on end and the breath gets caught in your throat, then it happens.
Fantasy “meets” Reality, but for some strange reason and we don’t know why, (some tragic fight many mallinea ago that no one can seem to get all the details on) Fantasy and Reality just never can seem to get along. So when ever they do meet there is this terrible fight and Reality, because well he is just bigger and more attuned to this world, just kicks the living shit out of Fantasy ever time.
So there you are left standing there taking a good hard look at your fantasy with the shit kicked out of it and poof it’s gone. Fucking Reality always got to be messing with my shit like that. What an ass.
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