So, I was looking through my old things the other day, and I found my old diary and jewelry box. Inside the jewelry box were two folded sheets of paper that I don't remember putting there. I opened the first sheet and read it, but I really could not remember writing it at all! But it was my handwriting, and it was something I was likely to write, so it must have been me. Here is what it said...
It is such a pity to be living in a beautiful planet as this and not be able to feel its beauty with your five senses. Oh if I had wings! The places I would go! I would soar through purple skies at sunrise, smelling the sweet perfumes of freshness. Up above the clouds I would fly, floating on waves of shining sun rays. Just to be able to feel the gentle wind surrounding me. It is such a pity to see the moon and stars glittering every night and not be able to touch them with your own fingers and feel them sparkle on your face.
But maybe all this is just an illusion? An artificial picture? Maybe holding the stars with your hands and flying over the clouds wouldn’t be as magical as it sounds? Maybe the real magic is the illusion itself? But still, I wish…
