Indeed the time exhausted in my creative mind is like stepping into another world.
And often times the line between fantasy and reality can be rather blurred by freewheeling desires.
The point of becoming absorbed and enraptured in my personal world is not even a thought, it happens almost nonchalantly.
My senses become intertwined with my fantasy.
I smell the foreign aromas and I taste exotic foods.
I feel the warmth of an alien sun beating across my face.
It's all too real, and yet it's little more than daydreaming.
Though, I am not merely captivated by a blissful hope, it's more of intense infatuation with a contagious desire.
I have fallen, even embraced this lie I told myself.
Can it be contained any longer in me, or am I destined to be forever absent from reality, but existing in perpetual fantasy.