Before I dive into you, and lavish in your presence, dripping with drops of possibilities..

before I do that.., I want to thank you for the abundance of existence you display, for the fact that you exist because I exist, and that you are the concept and the shadow folded into one, and I want to thank you for growing bigger with every step I give you the freedom to just be without asking me to put more energy in than you give back.

A marvelous multification of majestic simplicity. How you come to life if I leave you uncaptured, to set you free is to make you come to me, oh how you turn my world downside up. How some thing can be great in al its littleness. You exist because I exist. I feed off of you. I would almost bow.

Did you enjoy it when I molded you into this Barbapapa wet clay cup, brown if I would want it that way, and filled you with words, describing the longing to sit next to a certain someone who is not a fantasy, but who sits elsewhere at the moment I made you?

Was it at that time that you saw it happen that everything described in my head was transposed to reality because the only thing I did was use real threads, I only held them together in my thoughts. No Strings attached.

Did you continue to exist even after I went on to using you for more internal smiles? Did you eat the distance between me and this other? Did you make a time difference of no difference at all? Did you make miles into a straight line from here to there, folding us together?

You must have saved thousands of lives and you will save millions more. You are the best gift at birth.

Tenderly I look how you seem to walk seamlessly with children, you come so naturally to them, it’s as if they speak your language miles before they can even walk, or can speak. They wear you not like a skirt, but like clothing of human skin. Or do you wear them? Who is who in a child? You fit so perfectly, and personally and yet you are recognizable to anyone.

You don’t deserve the cruelty you face when people grow older. The prosecution, the denial, the shame, the therapy even. It’s bitter, utterly bitter to see people want to get you back in their lives and choose the exact opposite paths for that, for they think you come in drugs. But you die in drugs.

What they chase is not even the shade of a memory of what you are said to be. The only thing they should do is hold their hand, Palm down, hands open, and receive. Don’t squeeze, don’t hold, just receive.

I am so glad you are still with me. I know you don’t like technology and chaos. I know you thrive in silence and inner-life-moderation. I know you like to be discovered, I know you like to be surprised, even though it is you surprising me.

Today will be about you, I invite and ask you.. dear fantasy.. please spend the day with me.