Hopeless Romantic

I have odd fantasies. Wait, that sounds really bad. I day-dream a lot. When I day-dream I get carried away.  It might be a borderline thing, I’m sure I read that somewhere, borderlines are more likely to fantasize about things because of the feeling they lack personality and belonging, or something.  I’m sure I read it somewhere.  Maybe it’s a normal human being thing.  Whatever.

I could day-dream for a whole day, and I have done before. Anything is possible in a day-dream.  When I used to get really angry I’d got to my island and get the sharks to eat me. Yes, I have an island. I also have a ship.  And sharks. But it’s all in my head.  I went to the cinema to see one of the Lord of the Rings films.  I day dreamed all the way through it because the film did not interest me.  The only part I can remember was Orlando Bloom sliding down some stairs on a door (or shield or something) shooting arrows.  I came around from day day-dream and thought “what the fuck? This is even more fucked up than my day-dream” and went back to whatever else I was thinking about.

Today my fantasies merged with reality and I’ve been searching for ships for sale on the internet for the last hour.  I should be studying, but nevermind.  I wish I could buy a ship.

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It escalated from I want to quit nursing so I can have my hands tattooed (I’m sure, how ever beautiful I think hand tattoos look, my bosses would think otherwise), to living on a desert island, to buying a boat so I can get there.

It has to be the right kind of ship.  It has to have the right sails.  I found an awesome one with cannons, although I don’t think they are necessary (tempting as it is to track down ex-boyfriends/enemy’s and fire at them).

Problem is, I can’t afford a ship (although there are some tall ships for sale here in good old Essex that would cost the same as a house) and I don’t know how to sail a ship, I don’t know enough people so they could help me sail the ship, or the people who I do know who could help me don’t know how to sail a ship, plus I’d have to sail to get them.  So that means no ship, no island with sand and perpetual sunshine (except for at night), and I’ll have to stick with nursing because I currently have no back up plan, unless I suddenly become a famous artist.  In which case this is an endless cycle of fantasy but maybe I’d be rich and then I could afford a boat and hand tattoos.

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This is all pretty pointless but it’s better than thinking about killing yourself.

Anywhoo, pointless story, but it indulged my imagination for a bit.  Now I’m thinking of my next tattoo…..

Love Sailor xox

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About Hellosailor

Writer, painter, nurse. Borderline, Bipolar, awesome.
This entry was posted in Borderline, General Thoughts, Mental Health and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Hopeless Romantic

  1. Bourbon says:

    I have zero imagination/ability to fantasise like that! Bet it is nice and peaceful sometimes 🙂 xx

  2. Lunch Sketch says:

    Ahoy Sailor! As long as those romantic sailing fantasies improve the cut of your jib, they are not pointless at all.

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