I feel like an adult that believes in Santa. My mind holds strong this notion of one good idea and won’t let go. It thinks I can just sit around and wait for a good idea, then write about it. No work involved.
I’ll walk down the street and people will say things like
“Hey! You’re the guy that wrote the thing!”
They’ll build statues. They’ll teach about me in schools around the world.
Every woman will want to marry me (too late, sucks to be you.)
Every man will want to be me.