Days like today, I have this thought:
“My life would be so much better – if I just had a treehouse…
Just there beyond my balcony.”
(“Hi. I’m Ashley’s balcony.”)
My mythical branch mansion would have a short bridge – built of wooden slates – which I would traverse during summer evenings like this one with my tea in tow. And there I’d spend every warm night in sultry slumber, camping under the stars, and staring into the cosmic darkness overhead (because it’d have a skylight, obviously). Then, after about ten minutes (when my eyes have adjusted to the light pollution), I could see all the constellations and fall asleep to the sound of June crickets (or frogs, or whatever the hell that shit is going on out there) along with my dog who gently snorts just before she surfs the delta waves. I could camp right there – like an elevated flesh cocoon, lullabied by the sound of nature’s woodland creatures and their intrinsically isochronic night song.
Then, I have a second thought.
“Well, why not just sleep on the balcony itself?”
Then, I have a third thought.
“That’s preposterous. The eight legged Luciferian legions will surely depart their webs with straws drawn to suck out my soul like an old school Tropicana commercial”
Then, I have a fourth thought.
“Wait. How was I planning to enjoy an arachnid free treehouse evening excursion when it’s a half foot away from the spider free for all?”
This is just another excellent example of how well my mind builds up fantasy versions of desired things in my head. Like how if I win the lottery, I’ll suddenly be catapulted into a world where my TMJ and spine issues magically disappear. Forever. Or if I finally move to Hawaii, I won’t get heat rashes and I’ll never gain weight. No matter what. And if I get famous or make a great spiritual trip to India, I’ll respectively be loved by everyone all the time and never have to work to fill my inner void again. Ever.
Some call it denial. I call it hope. Or faith. Or whatever word Oprah’s into this week. The truth is, I can’t be bothered with labels.
Because I’m too busy outside, constructing my levitating forest fortress that’s going to be able to migrate like Howl’s Moving Castle. And solve all the biggest problems in the world. Ranging from spiders all the way to… spiders.
(Gwen, instructing the ska-stomp – in case a radial repelling bug approaches)
#anotherreaonIloveher