I spend a lot of time on my front porch. I sit alone, wrapped up in an obnoxiously bright baby-pink blanket. I listen to the cars go by, I watch people walk up the sidewalk, I stare at the trees across the street.

Sometimes I sit out there for a long time. Just.. thinking.. About nothing in particular. Sometimes I think about my day, sometimes I worry about things going on in my life, sometimes I let memories flood back to me. I think good thoughts and bad thoughts. The channel in my mind is open to let all thoughts flow freely.

When I was around 14 I would come home from school and for about an hour I would lie on my bed staring into space and think about these things. Mostly I would go over the events of my day, happy about the good and stressing about the bad. I did this every day.

I frequently find myself lost in my thoughts. I can't sit through a lecture without spacing out-- its great to see my tuition go down the drain like that. I even find my thoughts wandering off as I try to read books. A page later and I didn't take in a single thing I 'read'.

Maybe I think too much. I wouldn't say any of it is insignificant, however. I'm always thinking about something. My mind is always playing with ideas, ludicrous as they may be sometimes. I have quite the active imagination.

Sometimes I make it harder to live in my own life when I can create this great alternate reality in my mind. Then I have to stop myself, admit that I am fantasizing about things that will most likely never happen, and try to think of something else. Eventually I end up back in dreamland, and awake discouraged that I have to go back to the real world.