If only there was magic

I have studied the books about dragons, heard the stories about trolls, and remember the monsters from the cautionary tales. Yet some part of me still craves the magic that runs alongside these stories, the wonder that imbues their world. It is one of the things that keep people coming back to these fantastical tales.

This magic wouldn't be for myself, but to gift to the wonderful people in my life. Magic is said to have a price, that's why we're not supposed to really actually want it, but I would pay it so my friends and family would have a fighting chance against the wicked selfish women and evil corrupt men that reality and fantasy have in common.

These fairy tales and stories aren't real, and that's okay. But the villains shouldn't be either if that's the case. And there are too many damn good people in the world fighting against these demons, these dragons with treasure, these vampires out for our blood.

Now I know why we never read fantasy in school. It gives us too much hope. Enjoy your Greek tragedies and love Big Brother.  I'll keep hoping for the best for good people.

Down. Set. Run.

Hello again and a fancy meeting you here.

I'm still home, and life is still happening quickly.

Moving will take place soon, and goodbyes are forthcoming and make me cry (again).

I need to detach enough where tears are sparse, however the social being within a quiet shell pleas nightly for conversation at the minimum.

Tonight's words were good.

Let's start to measure out life not by coffeespoons, but by stories and words. Let's make our dreams matter more.

Reality isn't important. Facts will change, as will minds and hearts. But stories. Memories and the tales of our lives,
the one's in our minds,
will be the important ones.

Maybe if we swallowed our words we would become wiser, like brains, hearts, and eyes . What would you take back?
What would I?


Living some place new, without a known soul for 45 minutes close, will be awkward.

How do you meet people?

Do you have to be social with reality?

Will I ever stop asking questions? No.

Detachment and trying to connect is messing with my mind. If only there was a guidebook to living my own life, with a more interesting protagonist.
I miss the other characters constantly.