I’m a simple creature. I don’t want for much. Just a house with a room to sew, and a kettle to make my cups of tea, and maybe a little stream nearby so I always have the sound of running water to soothe and calm. I want a cat and a dog so that they can be friends, and so that I have something soft and gentle to love.
I want space, away from the people and the hustle and bustle of 9-5 life, because 9-5 is never just that. Your job always demands more of you than you want to give and slowly, piece by piece, you will start to fade away, embodying only monotony and unhappiness.
I want quiet, and warm breezes through open windows as I sit in a soft sunny patch of daylight and write without expectation or demand. I want books, walls of books, to read at my leisure and know that I can, at any time, find comfort in the words on a page.
I want a big bath, big enough to stretch out in so that the water covers me completely. I want music and candlelight and moonlight and the freedom to be unclothed without judgement. And I want a front porch, where I can sit and just watch when it rains.
I’ve been overwhelmed with work and a lack of time lately, and so sometimes I just lose myself in this happy little daydream of the life I would live if I could. And this little dream is about simple pleasures and contentment in experience, not material things. And I don’t know, I guess I find some kind of strange comfort in that.
What do you daydream about?