A friend from out of town recently called me to ask if I could live with her for a month. Of course, I said yes. She's an old roommate of mine and her family is like my family - I'm friends with all of them.
Now, here's the situation. She's eight months pregnant and her husband is out of town until the beginning of February. She told me that I was the first person she thought of who could take care of her and of things around her house while her husband's away. I'm actually really
Being left with just my own thoughts for so long has caused them to twist and darken, only to reverberate off of themselves after a time to create kaleidoscopic replications of my delusions to haunt me with - the original image of truth remains trapped behind shattered glass just beyond my reach. I want to piece together a full image of what's transpired to create a semblance of realness for my own sanity.
Is it so wrong to want honesty? Perhaps it'd be wrong to ask that of someone
"I guess once more won't hurt."
"Okay, this is going to be the last time."
"... one more time. Just one more."
"I'm going to kill this if I keep it up but I can't stop."
Suddenly, five hours later. You're still at it.
"Might as well head to bed, it's getting pretty late," you tell yourself.
So you go at it once more before you find yourself completely tuckered out and need to pass out.
the avoidance of reality by absorption of the mind in entertainment or in an imaginative situation, activity, etc.
The funny thing about my escapist behaviours when they come about is that the things I entertain my mind with often land me in the middle of realizations of the reality I attempt to avoid in roundabout ways. Actually... I'm not sure if I could call it avoidance of reality, instead, maybe it's my way of finding the answers