There is a time in a person’s life when magic is real, where pixie dust will make you fly and a place, where kids will never have to grow up.
There is a time in a person’s life when the impossible blends seamlessly with the possible because, truly, nothing is actually impossible.
I’m sure we all remember those days, fondly if not longingly because those were the days when anything you imagined could happen and if you thought about it hard enough, anything you imagined, did happen.
The unfortunate truth is that life happens, then you are dragged out into a reality isn’t as magical. A reality, were bad things happen to good people and evil is never vanquished.
One where you learn to accept the fact that you will die, just like everyone else and one where you will not be remembered, you will not be written about and when you are gone, eventually no one will notice.
The world stops for no man, or child for that matter. That is the sad truth of it all; we face our own morality everyday and claw at the fabric of life to leave our mark in it so strongly that we will never be forgotten.
And sometimes people have the audacity to dream big. It’s funny because while wealth favors the dreams that work, that is not typically the driving force for it.
Disney, Walt Disney was someone who dreamt big and now kids and adults alike all over the world know the name Disneyland. A place were pixie dust is real again and where cartoon characters sit beside you like it were an everyday occurrence.
I am a big kid. Let me rephrase that, I am a little kid trapped in a big kid’s body. I like to dream big and let the edges of reality and fantasy blur ever so slightly to the point where it seems like whatever I want to do could, in fact, actually happen.
Disneyland is sort of an escape for me; most adults go to Disneyland to act like adults.
I go to Disneyland to dream again.
I am not above life; life has bent and twisted me in ways that I wouldn’t have ever guessed as a child. I have seen unspeakable horror and watched the best of the good people fall.
Slowly, I have replaced the kind of books about a white rabbit and Frankenstein’s monster with books about Differential equations and Organic Chemistry.
Things were so much simpler as a child, why fly by plane when all you need are happy thoughts?
The reality is life is never that simple, but for one short day it was. For one moment in my life, I could fly to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, suit up like Ironman and take a boat ride around the world.
The ugly truth is I have forgotten how to fly, if I ever even knew how. I’ve replaced my pixie dust and happy thoughts with pills and nightmares.
Life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
But even if it isn’t real, even if it is overly expensive, even if the luster has worn off and the strings are all too visible; it’s nice to dream. It’s nice to forget that life is waiting outside those gates and just focus on what was really important as a kid, having fun.
I may never fly, but at least I can still dream about it.