Most of my life is a daydream. It's not true, nor is it right. It is, in fact, probably keeping me from being who I could be.
In the end, I'm a contented man.
I'm not sure that's a good thing. I don't make enough money, I don't have a house that's the size I want. I don't get enough days off, I don't hike enough. I never get enough sleep, and I never get to take as much time with my girlfriend as I want.
But yet, I love where I am in life, I love who I am. It's perfect, and life is running smooth and long.
Nothing is wrong. Nothing keeps me down.
My imagination has never left. I can see sheep through boxes.
I am the Fool of the Tarot.
