A while ago, I saw a cute post someone made. It said that when she was a kid, she thought that everyone got a grand magical adventure when they grew up. It took a long time before she realized that wouldn't happen. But sometimes she still likes to pretend that it will.
I think I was still pretty young when I stopped trusting things like the Easter bunny and Santa. But to this day, my dad will throw carrots on the roof Christmas Eve night so that the reindeer have something to snack on. It's kind fun to believe in them, just to get into the spirit of things.
But there is a strange side-effect of being involved in fantasy: Sometimes I catch myself thinking crazy things. For example, I'll look at a pretty hill covered in wildflowers and I'll think how nice it would be to fly to the top. And sure, who wouldn't think it would be nice to do that? But some part of me seems to think that I actually will be able to fly up there some day.
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