I find myself entertaining daydreams akin to plots found in some of our favorite games, movies or books.
Some part of me, buried beneath the layers of adulthood, wishes that some cataclysmic event would yank me from the comforts of my daily routine.
Don't construe this longing for adventure as a sign of dissatisfaction, in fact the opposite is quite true. At this point in my life even amidst the challenges of being a new father I've never been happier and yet I find my thoughts drifting..

I feel as if the years spent within the macrocosm of comics, gaming and music have left me with this aspiration to become something more in ways that are limited within this world.

I spend too much time indulging these reveries and suddenly I can feel this uneasy tingling in my chest.
On cloudy days it feels like I can fly.
I want to sunder the gods and topple mountains. I want to explode and watch the world burn.
I want to get lost in a story, I want to fight bloodied against hordes of formless evils, I want to save the day.
I want to believe in magic.




Also, my kid is amazingly awesome and more cool than any of us could ever hope to be, I mean look at this badass rockin' them shades!!!