Life being lived.

I’m constantly defining. Things going on around me. And the people I encounter. Defining. Defining. Defining. That’s how I give meaning to life. I’m living in a world. That I create. With my interpretations. Yes, these could be illusions. But they’re my illusions. The ones I pick and choose. I’m allowed to make reality of fantasy. Maybe that’s how love starts. As a fantasy. A dream. And then it becomes true. Something actually being lived. I’m not only creating a novel. But real life. Life being lived. –Jim Broede