DreamworldBy Wade Kwon
My dreamworld has faded into nothingness. My imagination, my capacity for wonder, my sheer depravity have been blunted.
What has caused this catastrophe? What has robbed me of my ability to escape into a fantastic realm where the beaches are populated with nubile tittering girls and freshly grilled seafood and barrels of margaritas?
My fantasy life is in grave peril.
We all spend time in our happy place, a sanctuary to escape the worldâ€™s dreary insults. Well, most of us.
My mutant gene mustâ€™ve fired itself up, for no longer shall I dream the days away. When Iâ€™m stuck in traffic in 105-degree weather, I close my eyes and see â€¦ walls of cars and SUVs imprisoning me in a blast furnace of molten air.
When Iâ€™m cursing the computer for crashing for the 10th time in a row, I take a deep breath and picture myself â€¦ stuck in front of an uncooperative frozen laptop. Why hast thou forsaken me, dreamworld?
It canâ€™t be television dulling my imagination â€” otherwise, all of my fantasy sequences would be coming in fuzzy with bad sound. Excessive drinking? Hardly, and besides, I only drink turpentine with a twist. (The twist is that I use a straw.)
In the blink of an eye, I would send myself to exotic locales for fun and relaxation: the top of Mt. Everest, the cabin of a private jet on its way to Monte Carlo, the ultra-swank bed of a penthouse room with a curvy young thing pouring me champagne, the deck of the Enterprise-D (hey, itâ€™s my fantasy), and on and on. Now, Iâ€™m trapped in this hell known as reality.
Laugh, if you will, as you dreamily extricate yourself from boring meetings, long checkout lines, crushing debt and bird flu outbreaks. Me, Iâ€™m stuck here on Planet Dull. Take me with you!
Maybe living in the South has finally de-corrupted me, made me squeeze my brain cells onto the straight and narrow. Perhaps the governmentâ€™s mind-control satellites have penetrated my tinfoil beanie to lobotomize my pleasure centers and replace them with 30-second pitches for upcoming movies and bug spray.
A mind may be a terrible thing to waste, but my mind is being wasted on the trivial and the mundane. I could be having tea with Genghis Khan and the Smurfs, and instead, Iâ€™m stuck here with you and you and you.
What do you care? Youâ€™re off in Wonderland right now.
Fine, Iâ€™m taking your wallet.