sometimes when i live amongst the words, when it's just me and the music in my head and the keys under my fingers, i believe. i really do. it's all real to me. as though by writing it down, it becomes true. and, oh, what a frightening world that would be in which to live. luckily, by the time i've packed up the computer and walked out into the day that asserts itself as--REAL, HERE, THIS WORLD, MOTHER FUCKER RUNS A RED LIGHT AND IT MIGHT JUST KILL YOU AND THEN THAT OTHER WORLD YOU'RE LIVING IN WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO CONSOLATION TO THE KIDS--i remember. i get it. i know that i'm making it all up. but then i feel a little sad. like someone has just wrecked my sandcastle. like the dream has been interrupted. the candy snatched from my hand. and i can't wait to return to the words.
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