Love Me or Maroon Me on My Fantasy Island.

Of love and vulnerability….

Unchained Voice

https://www.flickr.com/photos/16954440@N05/1936888608/in/photolist-3Xa4vb-cv3Mjw-8b7pV2-duEVeE-bdXiu8-8b7pXv-59BLvU-8NtPGo-JrgthQ-kwPY52-hhfcie-dQvZtC-qovT8H-4Qkdtv-a1swhv-7fjYpE-e1Vkf9-2vVkpu-rkynSv-fgjiMT-cJYxXL-8baGqG-346XL2-8b7pWn-4m3YqS-dpYUYT-4m3YuL-8b7pTt-cLPv9f-8baGrq-fsvoVJ-bxEKmf-eCZYsn-abBsFr-8b7pUa-rmQ9bR-6M9T44-4Cv9Kq-8b7pVt-gEdXe-8Ft6qm-bLzsgn-5rNdif-jQYWSp-bxEKqb-8M9jHM-31JEa3-5rJaf4-djphFU-5rNt4Y

I have found myself wondering which would be worse, fantasy or vulnerability. Living a fantasy life would be pretty amazing if we’ve got a good imagination. Then again, if we can master the vulnerability side of this, we wouldn’t need the fantasy.

The fantasy I often think of is one in which I move to a remote deserted island and shut myself off from society. I dream of a white sandy beach hot under my feet, palm trees swaying in the breeze, the sun beating down on me as I open my eyes in the mornings and quiet—no one else on this island with me.

Days consist of searching for berries or other edible plants. Maybe whittling a stick into a spear and teaching myself to fish, spending my day standing as still as I can be in the ocean while waiting for just the right fish to be curious…

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