Of course my fantasy world is a prison. It’s also the key. I escape long enough to put my observations to paper or pixels. I never truly escape at all. That’s the blessing.
Of course my fantasy world is freedom. It also never releases me. I wander across its domain willingly, without much of a choice. I never fully enter it at all. That’s the curse.
One full morning of writing, preceded on the other side of the night by an afternoon spent learning how to play chess, made for twenty four good hours. See you in two more months creativity?
You take a calming breath.
You stop reading/watching the news.
You take another calming breath.
(Really, is there anything new, or surprising in the news?)
It does nothing good to me. I try, and try, but I end up feeling worst than before. I do not need the aggravation. It’s hard enough without it.