Dreamin'

My life is such a blessing. It's odd for me to say that, because I once was a sad and bewildered boy who couldn't deal with the pain and abuse I suffered and so i turned inward. Instead of reflecting my suffering onto others I consoled myself by creating a fantasy world to live in. I hated the real world and its callous and constricted rigidity. My illusions gave me a safe place live. Nobody could hurt me there. It was a phantasmagoric neon-hued dreamland where I levitated above the purple clouds and bathed in brilliant glittering light. I spoke to the animals through my eyes, and I read their thoughts by waving my palms above their heads.
Music was made by every object I touched. Trees would hum in harmony and bells would chime when I splashed into the cold rivers and lakes. Raindrops whistled and in the breeze tall grass had the spiritual lift of violins.
I was the only human in my grandiloquent paradise. I don't have many memories of my childhood that aren't intermingled with my imaginary experiences. I often hesitate when speaking to my family of our shared experiences for fear of embarrassing myself with some utterly absurd imaginary event.
These are the lengths a child will go to when faced with the reality of a brutal unloving father who beat me literally every day. I like to think that these fantasy experiences and my glorious glittering creations have leeched out and influenced the real world somewhat. And as I look at my life today, with my family of happy and loving cast offs, spinning mirror balls, flashing colored lights, enlightening music and spiritually inspired dancing people - I know that by a small measure, I'm sure that they have.