Everyone used to tell me that I’d grow out of it, fantasizing that is. They said that as I got older I would begin to focus more on the real world and leave all of this fantasizing behind, they lied. Oh I’m sure that they thought they were telling me the truth, it was probably the way it happened to them, but not for me.
My fantasies mean more to me now, are more than ever an integral part of my life than they were when I was eight or ten. Fantasizing is my main tool for dealing with the stress that reality is continually trying to throw at me, but more than that, it’s the way I entertain myself, I am never ever bored.
There’s NEVER a day that I can honestly say that I spent the entire day without a fantasy. Now some days it happens more than on the others, but I can’t remember a day when I didn’t fantasize about something, if for no other reason than to simply pass the time.
My fantasies are what led me to become the storyteller that I’ve always been as well as the writer that I am becoming. I’ve always enjoyed sharing my fantasies with others and even though I love telling my tales to a group of rapt listeners, writing may let me share my stories with a lot more people than I ever could in person.