It’s really a rather gorgeous place. The wind dancing around, whistling at all the attractive birds and bees and you can’t quite remember what was bothering you just a brief moment ago. It’s as if all the world’s problems and worries have faded away into an incandescent sunset. Of course I’m sure, wrinkled as you may be, you have much better things to do with your time than listen to me babble on and on about this place. It’s got a rather sickly sweet aroma… sickly sweet in the sense that it reminds me of home, where all my problems bubble quickly back to the surface, and yet I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Think back to those times when you, as a tiny tot, would squawk and screech when you lost that warm velvety, thick blanket that kept you feeling safe no matter how loud the thunder roared or how evil the wind’s sighs would sound… This place is like my warm velvety, thick blanket that keeps me feeling safe no matter how loud the thunder roars or how evil the wind’s sighs sound… Think about that time you had your very first crush. All you’d have to do is look at your crush and you’d be all giggly and bubbly… The trees that dare dance in the moonlight frighten me so, yet I admire their spontaneity and wish that one day I could claim it as my own… but I also know such a thing to be impossible seeing as I can’t stop babbling about a place that some would say doesn’t exist. You must think me to be insane, seeing as my eyes are slightly lopsided and one appears to have gone through a growth spurt before the other, but I assure you I am nothing of the sort. Although your remarkable beauty shall forever shun the existence of myself, for I am nothing in comparison. Yet you too, are nothing in comparison to this wonderland. Of course this wonderland is nothing like Alice’s. There’s no jabberwocky that need be defeated, and of course no queen with a head who’s shape who’s size is comparable to that of mars. Not at all, this wonderland is simply delightful. Sadness is but a mere myth in this land, and it is forbidden to feel this emotion, for all you need is love. It’s as simple as a stroll through an English garden, and as striking as a rainbow forming across the base of a never ending waterfall, and it’s as if you were never a part of the living dead. It’s a place where true beauty, the beauty that comes from within, is treasured and the flame of love keeps burning and never fades to an ember. It’s in this place that I can trust my heart and soul, and not just listen to my mind reasoning and making deals with a deceitful devil. It’s a place where I can truly decide who I loved once, and who I am in love with… and I’m in love with you. In this place I can rely on everything I hear, and know that it is truthful, and every attempt is as honest as the day I was born. I find it quite intriguing that while strolling through this place, there is but one thing that sticks to my mind like glue. In this thought I take comfort in the fact that everything is never as it seems, and that dreams can come true if you just believe. I’ve found that I can place everything I am into your hands, and I won’t be smashed into a million pieces… But still, the tress that dare dance in the moonlight frighten me so, yet I admire their spontaneity and wish one day that I could claim it as my own, and maybe then my puzzle will be completed… and upon completion of this puzzle I’ll have you know, that you are my courage. You are my courage and I draw strength from every word that seeps from those gorgeous lips. Everything about this feels so… impossible. It was always my negativity that said I would never find that sense of wonder… that sense of pure delight… that incredible feeling of knowing you are loved and supported no matter what. Now upon finding that I was lying to not only myself, but everyone I know, I have found a place. It’s really a rather gorgeous place, the wind dancing around a sculpture, whistling at the overall beauty of the handy work. Imagine my surprise when I realized the wind was whistling at the one thing that makes my wonderland truly wonderful. Of course I’m sure, Wrinkled as you may be, you remember this perfectly… For ‘twas you, that the wind found so intriguing… and wrinkled as I may be, I must say you are quite the love, I never dreamed of.
Never Dreamed Of
November 13, 2010