That time when you fell and scratched your knee and it was okay to cry like a baby
When your biggest sin was stealing cookies at night
When you fell asleep on the couch and woke up on your bed
When you believed it was a real magic when the magician pulled a flower from his hat
When you sang a silly song off tune and people would laugh with you,
not at you
If I fall asleep on the couch tonight I'll wake up on the couch too tonight,
rubbing my eyes, blindly trying to find my way back to my room in the dark
If I fall and scratch my knee today, I'll only bit my lip and grimace at the little cuts
because crying over a scratched knee is for kids
And I'm not a kid, no matter how much I want to be one again
And I commit yet another sin in every step I take,
because I know I've chosen the wrong path
I miss being a kid, don't you?
But I still believe that magic exists, just not in the form of rabbit that comes out of nowhere
I've always loved to sing, you know
Mummy told me I've sung since I was only four, maybe younger
She said I used to sing in front of people, even when I didn't know them
And now that I'm older, I know better than to embarrass myself in front people
So I chose to sing silently to myself instead or sing only to those who already know me
It's....safer, in a way, I guess
But before you sleep, I want you to say your prayers
And when all you can see is darkness, recall the sound of me humming your favorite tune
Carrying you deeper and deeper into your slumber
And when you finally land your feet on the ground of dream,
you know the whisper of the wind against the leaves is actually me, still humming to you
And by the time you open your eyes at dawn,
send your prayers with my hums still playing in the back of your mind
Because I don't really want to leave
Because I want to show you I can do magic too
"Why do you like reading so much?" people often ask me that
And I often just shrug, knowing that even if I explain it to them, they will never get it
But sometimes I get excited and tell them every each of my reasons
I love the smell of books and I love the sound the paper makes when I turn to another page
I love the hundreds feelings every story gives me
I love how every story creates another world for me to live in
I love how every book takes me to travel to somewhere beyond the world,
how it makes me fly with my soul and leave my body behind
I love how they make me forget about everything for a while
I love how every paragraph makes me feel different things,
pain in one, and bliss in another
I love how every book leaves me breathless once I've finished it
I love how every story teaches me things that aren't taught at school
I love how every book, every story, gives me yet another reason to love reading
And I love how it will take me a day to list all my reasons
And I've probably bored you to tears right now
But my biggest reason is that I love the magic every book brings me
How do you imagine your future?
In your head, do you sit behind a table in a office with stacks of paper waiting for you?
Do you sit and eat together with your happy little family?
Do you run chasing your first child when he finally discovers he can run?
Do you see yourself smiling happily at your soulmate?
Do you see yourself as a doctor? Teacher? Musician?
When I imagine my future I see myself sitting on my bed with a pen in hand
and a notebook sitting on my lap, writing shit like this
Occasionally sipping on my coffee slowly as if it could help me find an inspiration
And when my little ones come in and ask me what I'm doing
I'll tell them, "Mummy's working on her magic, sweethearts."
And when they ask me to do some tricks I'll show them one of my old writings
And tell them that my magic is hidden beneath every letter written
Because I believe words are magic if you could arrange them with your heart
If you could pour your soul in to your sentences
If you willing to share the magic in you with every letter you write
And I know writing things like this can hardly make a living
I should probably get a more productive job
But I know I can't save people by inventing new medicine
I know I can't make people happy by building a beautiful park
I know I can't make people's lives easier by making a new machine
I know I can't help thousands of lives by stopping wars
I know I can't bring justice by locking up the villains and saving the innocents
But maybe, just maybe, I can calm people's souls by writing my soul out
Maybe, just maybe, I can make people's hearts feel again
by showing them my feelings through my sentences
Maybe, just maybe, I can make someone a better person by telling them about my heart
Maybe, just maybe, I can tell people that I understand, even though I don't know them
merely by sharing my jumbled thoughts
And maybe, just maybe, I can erase the frowns on people's foreheads and lift the corners of their lips
when they feel my magic slowly working its way through their souls
while they're reading my written thoughts
And for me, that's enough
For me, the smiles are enough
