Reality often sucks, that’s no news to any of you out there. But recently I have realized that I often run away from my reality. I can’t help but wonder how many of us do that, and how often?

I personally manipulate my feelings whenever I feel the urge to escape reality, and although I’m not proud of it, I have come to realize that I do that a lot. For example, I escape the reality of working at least 8 hours everyday, sitting behind a corporate owned computer while surrounded by hideous cubicles every day managing web products whether I feel like it or not, by putting on my headset listening to loud music or sticking my nose in some co-worker’s love life. I have no choice, it’s either that or I murder my boss. That said, I love what I do for a job but employment sucks the life out of me.

Reality comes in many shapes and forms. I see it in the social norms we do our best to adhere to even though we could gladly do without. I see it in our schools’ curriculum, which at best encourages radicalism and rewards the slowness of mind. I see it in the faucet water we know we shouldn’t drink. It’s in the homophobic, macho loving, male oriented societies we live in, where at work, top managers are always men and sometimes men and their mistresses.

I’ve always managed to escape reality by detaching myself in some way, and whenever I could escape from it, I sure did. Detachment was my way of choosing my battles so that when it hit home, I was energized and determined to face things head-on.

Some people detach themselves by drinking, some by listening to music, some by praying, others by philosophical readings and some just need to be themselves and there you go, you got yourself an insensitive jerk who doesn’t need to detach in the first place.

But I think that at some point, humans are supposed to develop and start seeking higher purposes by being proactive in their life. They ought to stop being defensive towards life. They ought to stop being so God damn protective of themselves. This life, we’re will only live it once. No one really cares if you’re spending the night alone, no one gives a damn about your retirement plan, and I assure you that dreams can not be stolen nor can they be negotiated so what are we afraid of?

These days, I look at my life and I see myself boxing whatever I can put in a box, my hopes, my fantasies, my career plan, my feelings, my fears…all are constantly packed and unpacked in unfamiliar places. And those small things, the things that really matter: phone numbers, birthday memories, empty bottles of perfume, unsaid words, delayed gifts, favorite books, unrequited love, fate… I prefer to carry with me wherever I go, only to carelessly drop them in familiar places or willingly give them away to strangers with painfully familiar faces.

These days…I lost my will to detach and I can not tell you when did that happen, but somewhere along the way my small things turned against me, accusing me of intentional amnesia and demanding that I “make a statement”. Twilight zone is no longer satisfactory, not even to my things.