Trent
slept over last weekend. We watched Contact, the Jodi Foster
movie about first contact with aliens. Trent hated it; he was begging for
it to end. I thought much of it was boring as well, except for one part:
when she traveled through the wormhole to a distant planet. She landed on
an island with the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. The sand was pure
white, the water a clear blue, and the night sky was cast in a velvety
purple. It looked like the coastline of a painting by this artist who
does tropical seascapes. I don't know his name [Christian Lassen], but I
wish I did.
This
beach inspired me to draw an island for one of my fantasies, called Sandwich
Island. This island is surrounded by a sea of coral. It has a
tourist town called Encinitas; the Corcos jungle, where many apes live; an
Andean-looking peak called Maccu Piccu, based on the real place in Peru; and
Half Moon Bay, where my perfect beach exists on a limestone coast. The
fantasy involves Lauren, my latest crush at school. Denise and Amy are in
it too. Basically, I save them from a volcano just before it
erupts. We survive the eruption and end up living in a jungle mansion on
the beach for the rest of our lives.
Frequently
I dream up fantasies like these. I like how they draw me out of the real
world so I don't have to deal with it. The prospect of talking to any of
these girls in real life is too frightening for me to seriously consider.
Casanova would be ashamed.
