Right now, I'm finding it difficult to resist wandering off into one of my fantasy worlds, as reality has grown quite frustrating. I usually try to focus on the concrete world around me, but sometimes that doesn't work. The chirping crickets and the cool breeze through the open window are no match for the allure of the imaginary. I don't consider my capacity for losing myself in illusions to be crazy, but I've never considered it to be quite sane, either. It's rather like a gray area on the edge of madness, from which I always have sight of reality, and always remain aware that my imaginary world is merely imaginary, but I always think that I might step just a bit too far and lose myself in the illusion. After all, the illusion is much more attractive than reality. It is like lucid dreaming while awake. My inner Puritan nags me, telling me that I'm wasting time. The truth is that my inner Puritan would rather be watching television. My inner Puritan, like that of most Americans, has been converted to the cause of consumerism, and conflates advertising with Holy Writ. In my imaginary world, I sell my inner Puritan to a brothel and buy a good meal with the price. Then I go to the beach and daydream. Ah, that's better.