What ever happened to imagination? What happened to playing hide and go seek, or playing tag? Or those times where you pulled the blanket over your head and for an instant you were lost in time, only you and the ideas that you formed in your head. We blame it on growing older, where things are meant to be a certain way, we call it maturity. We work, we claim to be to busy for that. To busy to explore again, to create new stories and new ideas. To explore new emotions and ways of doing things. I pray to never get caught in a sense of repetition. That every day remains brand new. The sun never sets, we just keep rotating, thus we are in the same day as we were before. The hours keep moving, and we keep breathing.
Of course there is a time and place for everything, be it work or be it play. All in which can be enjoyable. We fight daily only for one thing, to be happy. To be calm and at ease with the world. For us to only smile once, and for it to be genuine. To fall in love, and to never reach the ground.
