It's like a maze with more paths then you could ever imagine, and everything you do decides which path you will take and where you are going. I like to think of the path in the maze I walk right now, as a barely visible path in the middle of a huge forest surrounded my fairies and things that live as soon as I think about them. I'm not alone on this path, there are more people. My love is there, great people I met along the way of this path are there. And we can here the rumours of the people that walk the main path, a concrete highway far away from the forest we roam. But we can still here them because there are so many people walking this concrete path, building it as they go. But as these people walk this concrete path, we will never stop breaking through the conrete and planting trees and flowers to regain this part of the maze. Before returning to our own little Mägíç lând, to live happy and free, dancing and loving, making music...
As we get older, we roam further and further into the maze. We still walk through the trees, dance, sing, do what we want. But some might be tempted to join the concrete-people. There path is easier to walk, because it's flat concrete in stead of leaves and branches. And you won't have to bother breaking through the concrete anymore to plant the trees and flowers. You won't have to be an outcast anymore and you can join the mass. Sure, you will have to give up some things, but eventually, you will grow old (sure, in a plastic bubble, but hey...). Our litle happy, free fairy group will lose some people to the concrete mass, and we will be sad about it. But really, are those beautiful leaves really that much harder to walk on then the concrete path? Are the beautiful arms of the trees, the branches, really that much of an obstacle? Doesn't it feel great to clear up the concrete after the mass has passed? And is being different, really bad?
I don't think so. I hope you can all keep up with my brain waves and overactive fantasy, but this is how I see it. Some people lose their free, happy, creative spirit as they grow older. They wander from their path to join the concrete mass.
I'm getting older, I'm supposed to be an adult, I am supposed to go earn money and be a good civilian, stop believing in fairies, stop hugging trees and be normal homo sapiens sapiens. I'm supposed to stop being me. But I won't ever do that. I sometimes worry about getting older, but as I said before, it's just a number. I will be a child forever, and stay free. Even if I end up all alone on my little forest path (which I higly doubt), I won't stop being me. And if you can identify with my little forest path, I hope you won't let the modern, grown up, serious world get to you. I hope you will stay with me on that path, and not wander of to the concrete. Be happy, be your crazy self, be free!
Leaves and sunbeams
Forest nymph May
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