Escapism

Escapism is fatal. It keeps you from playing the game. It forces on you, those wonderful rose coloured glasses. It makes you run from things that sooner or later smack you right in your face!

I am an escapist. I escape. I escape from almost all the things I don’t want to accept just yet. I run away. Just flee.

But, running away doesn’t mean I don’t look back at what I just ran away from. I keep turning back to see if it’s still there waiting for me. I peek back to confirm my fears, but I hardly ever want to see them in the eye, do I? Just because I pretend to overlook, doesn’t mean they disappear.

I am an escapist and I am not proud of it. I’m questioning the magician because the vanishing act is not as convincing and impressive anymore. The magic is running out.

It’s time to stop and get smacked. It’s time.