I can see now that I spent the vast majority of my childhood and adolescence living almost entirely inside my own head. It's the natural place to retreat to when you're kind of weird and shy, so I don't blame little me at all. I simply preferred to make my own experiences, stories really, rather than focus on the ever-depressing mundanity of my
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Incidentally, though, I recently found out that elves flying starfighters live inside my head with me. I've been yelling at them to leave but they're refusing until I write some cool stories about them.
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