Journal: 25 January, 2012

My dad is continually telling me that I need to live in the present.  He knows me well.  Sometimes I think/hope that I am able to hide the fact that I am never thinking about the present moment.  My brain never shuts up.  From the minute I wake up in the morning to the minute I fall asleep, I am constantly thinking and imagining every possible senario for everything.  I am constantly distracted in every experience and interaction by my own internal story.  I wish it weren't so, but alas.  I really do try to live in 'the now' but the future is so enticing its usually infinitely more exciting...  And this city isn't making it any easier.  I love walking around these streets by myself and imagining everything under the sun (or lack thereof).  As I twist and turn through the narrow streets, concentrating hard on my ankles' interaction with the cobblestones, I feel as if I'm living in a fantasy world.  Its not that everything is perfect here, in fact there are lots of things that aren't, but the city lends itself to such imagination.  Here I am not only living in my future, but also different versions of the fictional past I never could have lived.  I'm becoming all too aware of the fact that I have to be careful that my imagined life is not the only one I'm living.  Its tempting though.  Its easy.  And always perfect.