Reality sucks if you pay too much attention to it.
If you listen carefully it sounds like ignorance and anger congealing together like a jello mold filled with nutmeg and used diapers. Stare at it too long and you’ll go blind to beauty, a solar eclipse of photoshop fails. Believe in it and you are done for, there is no hope in reality but more of the same basic buzz from a rotating cast of similar characters in stylish cars and overpriced sneakers. The demoralizing conversation about meaningless insecurities stays constant, and there are always new things to buy, small body parts to make larger and big parts to be ashamed of, clever hashtags and healthy snacks only Gwyneth Paltrow can afford. But the fear is always there, reality supports a desperate run towards something that helps us forget some other thing.
Imagination is the cure, but it must be fed, every day, or it will starve until it’s thin enough to be sugared and fried into a hate-churro. Write something, draw something, dance something, cook something. Create something, every day. Otherwise, you might forget that you are the architect of reality, and also that a Smokey and the Bandit movie poster is timeless, works with every decor and really ties the room together.
Knit something. Paint something. Drive to a new place and walk around a little. Read something. Listen to something. Play with something. Talk to someone as reality-avoidant as you are. Imagination is the key to finding solutions, happiness, and a delicate way to tell someone they have chive in their teeth. It’s the lens that makes possibility out of problems and peace out of misery, and a daily dose is a minimum requirement.
Create it. Bask in it. Turn off the news. Let those who run in circles have reality, I’ll take my tie-dyed-ice-cream-flavored-shag-rug -carpeted-candle-lit-Black-Keys-soundtracked disco-verse any day, until tomorrow when I change it into something really ridiculous.