Today I woke up and just like any Sunday morning I went downstairs to make myself some breakfast. I usually eat an omelet with some type of fruit mixture on the side, strawberries, apples, bananas, peaches, and drink a cup of coffee but today I had something completely different. I ate a bagel with blueberry cream cheese and drank a cup of orange juice. I don’t know what came over me, I’m never this spontaneous. It felt so good to take a step on the wild side. Now enough of that; I went on with my normal Sunday routine. It’s about time for me to sit on the porch and read my favorite book, What is the Color Gray by J. Smith. As I began to walk out of my house slipped and stepped into paradise. It was beautiful, a sunny beach and fluffy clouds, people everywhere being friendly and social. There was an ice cream stand selling only my favorite flavor, butter pecan. Enormous sand castles sitting on the beach, so big you could literally walk through them.  How the hell do I get back to my house? Sitting in this sun I’m sure to get sun burn maybe even cancer, and ocean water is so dirty. What of the terrible creatures that live in the water sharks, octopi, starfish! Some people will call this amazing and fun and I agree but this is just too much for me. Before I could finish it began to snow. Quickly the snow covered the whole beach and the large beach house behind me turned into a cottage with smoke blowing out the chimney. I ran inside since I still had on my morning clothes. The snow fall was beautiful, mesmerizing I couldn’t take my eyes away from the window. The fireplace was keeping me warm and there was already made hot cocoa on the kitchen table with one huge marshmallow instead of multiple small ones; just how I like it. There were smooth sounds of jazz playing as I sipped my cocoa I wondered; how the hell was I going to get back to my home? This place was very nice but eventually this perfection will become boring. The cold will become too cold and the hot chocolate will never be hot enough. Some people will call this perfect but it’s actually far from it. Suddenly the floor began to move. I fell as the house ascended into the air.  The comfy sofa changed into a large bean bag chair, the deer on the wall became a poster of a collection of wild animals, and the smooth jazz became the sounds of the jungle. I peered out the window to see the trees surrounding me. I was now in a tree house somewhere in the heart of the amazon. A lovely bird with red and white feathers flew by and carefully dropped a helmet in my hands. Confusion fell upon my face before I looked upward at the zip line dangling from the roof of the treehouse. As if like magic a zip lining harness appeared over my morning clothes. Some people would jump at the chance and take that zip line through the jungle but I simply removed the harness and jumped out the window. If I cannot find a way back to my home, my life, my sense of self I will not waste any more time. As I fall I see the trees clear up and the view is of the sky only, it is cloudy. I close my eyes and prepare for whatever comes next. I cease falling and open my eyes. I’m in my bed. Pitter patter of rain hits my window. The gusts of wind push a tree branch against the side of my house with a thud. I remain in my bed, just lying there; listening. Some people can call this whatever they’d like, boring, lame, whatever, but this is my paradise.