I spent the last three weeks debating within myself whether or not to start a “sinister Sea World” Twitter account (I have the gchat transcripts with every one of my comedian friends and a Google Doc titled ‘Sea World Joke Ideas’ to prove it), despite the fact that most single-subject joke Twitter accounts are not very good (sole exceptions being @Seinfeld2000, @BlackLarryKing, and @NotCoatFactory) and grow wearisome within a matter of days, not to mention the inevitable and maddening comparisons that would result (“So it’s like Night Vale, but underwater?”).

For whatever reason, a part of me remains deeply convinced that I would be the perfect person to craft a slightly off, terrifying version of Sea World that exists on Twitter, instead of someone who would tweet four stupid jokes about octopus faces and then let it die out completely. I am also fairly certain that I can sing glam-rock falsetto, even though this is something that female vocal cords are physically incapable of doing. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I believe I could become a world-champion whistler if I really put my mind to it. I do not know where these beliefs come from. I do not know what sustains them.

My sister once signed me up to receive promotional materials from the Marines after we got into an argument about whether or not I’d be a good one. (My argument consisted mainly of “I don’t know why, I just FEEL like I’d be a good Marine.”)

I don’t necessarily mean “what are your unrealistic dreams,” because that’s kind of a sad question, but what is something you secretly believe yourself capable of doing if you really tried that you know for a fact that you cannot? Join me in my delusions.