imagination on a rubbly road.

Along the way up to my house is a wide rubbly road of concrete up a slope surrounded by long grass bushes and short trees. Half a moon of light was just enough to cast distinct shadows all around. Upon sudden impulse i knelt down. It IS very different from down here. everything seemed so much more real, so much more distinct. Better than reality. My own perfect reality. The slight shadows cast by the pebbles, the swaying grass in the breeze, the crickets. -flash-shift- i'm back in my army days, the ones i have always enjoyed; creeping up that knoll to recon, maintaining eye contact with my comrades, moving, shifting, breathing in the atmosphere.
And wonders i actually sit down on that perfect spot. Now im back in malaysia, the place is beautiful and mysterious. Theres a campfire, the ol gang cooking up the usual maggie mee n sausages, smells so nice after a long hard day. 'drea is here with me and we talk and im happy.

Oh imagination. Ever so wonderful.

Bliss and perfection never felt so good for a minute. I figure it was less than a minute. Then i get up feeling like a damn fool and hoping no one has actually walked past to think that i am crazy or summat.