Sometimes, I just close my eyes and think about the world the way I want it to be. I start with where I am. I live in a fairly big house. It’s probably three or four bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and two bathrooms. The living room is a large open area with walls covered in bookshelves. My roommate has a large bed with more bookshelves on the walls. There are nerd posters and pictures throughout which just makes people question whether an adult actually lives there. It’s my place, and best of all, I can afford the rent.
I converted one of the bedrooms into an office. The office has a similar look to the bedroom, although there’s even more nerd things throughout. I have a Mac computer sitting on the desk with papers strewn throughout it. The room faces the street and the sounds of the street draw my attention to the city outside from time to time. It’s a good place to work in the house, although I still do most of my writing outside of it on my MacBook.
I do not look all that different from how I do now. I shave my head bald once again, which I haven’t done since my fall. My beard is kept trimmed short or in a goatee. I still wear my contacts to see, or maybe I have a pair of hipster glasses that I wear from time to time. I wear skinny jeans and different types of t-shirts. My classic look remains the same with the pair of cut off shorts, t-shirts, and some sort of smile. I do not see myself evolving far in the looks or fashion department. It takes too much care, and I have other things, like my work, on my mind.
I write. Every day. I have different blog posts that have to go up, and I have notes that tell me when and what I should be writing. I spend the first part of my day just doing that. The later part of my day is spent dealing with the tertiary things. I check my social media. I make sure my posts go up okay. I check my schedule for the next few days and set up what I need to do. I look over bills and make sure they’re paid, because I’m paranoid about things like that.
Writing never really gets easier to a large extent. I still have to push myself to edit and do the rewrites, but it seems to be more fun as the stories come easier. I have more mediums to write in. I move from novellas, to novels, to comics, and then make my way to stage and film. I do a little bit of everything down the line and cannot help but find myself just overly happy with the way everything played out in my life.
I’ve seen the world. I’ve written my own universe. And I’ve spent time with my friends. It’s the kind of life I dream about. Let’s just wish this right into reality then.
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