Lobotomy?

It's one of those days again. Against my better judgement, I've started rereading the greatest story ever conceived, The Lord of the Rings. I say 'against my better judgement' because I suffer the same reaction everytime I come close to anything Tolkien related. That is, I realize that nothing that can happen in my life will ever be as incredible as anything that happens in Middle Earth. This is a disheartening thought- to know that my greatest dream, the thing that would make me wholly and eternally joyful, is literally impossible to achieve. What then? What do I make of my hopelessly subpar reality? The answer has been upon me for some time, I must choose the course of mental illness.

I know, you may be wondering, how can it be possible to choose to have a mental disorder? And further, why would anyone desire to have one? To answer the latter, mental illness is really my only hope in coping with the utterly mediocre state of the world. We live in a world devoid of epic battles fought only with swords, bows, and pure, mindblowing gallantry. A world without sorcery, or terrifying perils to overcome. No matter how hard I try, I will never be face to face with an Uruk-hai in a glorious life or death battle. This is a shocking and horrible fact. But maybe it is possible to delude myself into a state where the realistic confines of our world don't matter. Maybe, if I put myself in the proper setting, (New Zealand, obviously, is the closest thing to Middle Earth our planet has to offer) and provide myself with certain tools (swords, bows, castle, cloaks, wooden spoons and goblets), and (to answer my first question ) drug myself into delirium, I can acheive all the glory and amazingness of Tolkien's world that I really need. I can carry on quests and wars in my own head but across the plains of New Zealand. Of course, I would need some land to myself so that I could fulfill these quests without putting any kind Kiwis in danger. In my elder years, I can retire to a nice hobbit hole on a hillside somewhere in the country. I will fill it with books and maps all relating to Middle Earth. Once the dementia kicks in, Middle Earth will be complete reality. I won't even know that there is such a thing as New Zealand.

The biggest problem I see with this plan is lack of funding. I probably won't make much money saving the world from great evil. But I will need something to sustain me into old age which, the way medicine is going these days, could be hundreds of years from now. To solve this I am opening this blog up immediately to begin accepting donations. I have no shame in living off the charity of others. If, on these journeys, I begin to miss my friends (unlikely since I will almost certainly hallucinate that they are partaking on these adventures with me) they are welcome to come and participate in the fun. The main point is that living in the "real world" is an intolerable future for me. I am perfectly content to live in my own head.