I think I'm a romantic illusionist. I romanticize about eveything. For instance, like what it would be like in a different city, in a different apartment, in a different body, while sitting at a bay window overlooking the busy street below reading a book as I sit in shorts with nothing on my feet that the toenails are painted red against my dark skin. What would it be like to be working a different job somewhere else to the minute detail. It always feel so fresh and foreign, compared to what I'm doing, even though more than half the population wishes they we're doing what I do, remodeling houses on my own time.

Always- what if that I was somewhere else, but when I get there, I'm wishing that I was somewhere else. Right?