this is where it started:
it was new and unexplored and deeply desired, but somehow i had everything already, mixed up and cracked down, and then everything stopped happening.
it was like dancing in the rain and you know it is freedom, but still you're afraid that you will end up alone.
it was like magic and wands and spiderlegs and dragonhearts and you know it's all not real, and of course you're willing to believe.
it was like knowing that one day you will stand in the middle of australia, wondering why fireflies glow and why some zebrafish glow and why kangaroos don't and then that's all that matters.
it was like that time you told me that rain will make me sick someday, that magic is a fairytale, that australia is another world and zebrafish glow thanks to fireflies and that it's not important.
i thought it was about the most important in the world.
that was the one thing you thought me. and there is a malady called imagination and there's nothing that's worse. it stopped happening to me.