The wonderworld

I believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magical time, in a magical city, among magicians. Almost no one realized that we lived in a magic circle, connected to each other by strands of chance and circumstance. But I knew it was so. When I was twelve, the world was my magic guide, which allowed me, through a small blue and bright spirit, to see the past, the present and the future. I'm sure there were other people who could do it, but they don't remember it. It is my belief that, at birth, we are all magicians. We are all born with whirlpools, forests and comets within us. We were born with the ability to sing to the birds, read the clouds and see our destination in grains of sand. The problem is that we are then educated in order to expel the magic from our souls. Our school education abd family education hides it and our family education and both deny magic. They tell us that we have to be responsible and follow predetermined paths, that we have to grow up and behave according to our age. All of this happens because people are afraid of authenticity and youth and because our magic makes them feel sad for the magic they let die inside of them.When we get too far from magic, we have no way of recovering it. We will only have glimpses of it. Seconds in which we recognize and remember it. People cry watching movies because the darkness of the movie theater allows the golden lake of magic to touch them. But the dry lake barely comes out into the harsh sunlight of logic and reason, leaving them with a feeling of sadness and bewilderment. Whenever a song wakes up a memory, dust particles dance through the rays of light and distract us from the world, we hear a train passing by in the distance at night and we wonder what its destination will be, we cross a border that takes us there what we are and where we are. We entered the world of magic for a very brief moment. I firmly believe that. Over the years, we have been moving further and further away from the essence we were born with. We are burdened with burdens, some more difficult than others. Things happen to us. Beings we love die. People suffer accidents and are disabled. Or they get lost in life for some reason. In a world full of mazes, it is not uncommon to happen. Life is in charge of making us forget the memory of magic. And we only discover that this is happening to us when, one day, we feel that we have lost something, but we don't know what. These memories of who I was and where I lived are important to me, because they are a very important part of who I will be when the steps of my journey in this life begin to slow down. At that time, I will need the memory of magic to be able to make it resurface. Secrets hidden, not able to reveal it. Walking on a lifetime journey yet much to dicover. Still trying to figure out who i really am, what i only know is that only magic can answer my questions. I need to know and remember, to walk on the same path as the unknown used to. Bit by bit to be able to tell you....