I was never fond of ‘real life’.
‘Get a job. Go to school. Stop having ideas of your own. Go into debt. Get another job, maybe two to pay for college. Slave to get out of debt. Break your back for 40-50 years, post-debt, doing something you hate. Realize you had it wrong all along, and enjoy you later years reading, knitting, and shooting the shit. Die with just enough money to hand down to your increasingly greedy offspring. Get reincarnated into a happier life form, if you’re lucky. Become a musician, a busker, an artist, or a freewheeling renegade. Make a difference. Volunteer. Enjoy life. Die again. And call it quits.
Give me a warm, caring lover, a good book, and a great conversation over money, fame, and hollow titles. Then watch me smile.