I Believe Impossible Things
Sometimes I forget that I believe in magic.
Sometimes I forget that I believe in impossible things . . .
I think this does something to you.
When you forget that there really is room in the wide space of this world to believe in the wild, the unpredictable, the fantasy, the sheer impossibility of something, a little piece of you hardens.
And when the chance to believe in those things comes around again you sort of just . . . miss it. When something impossible shows itself to you, you just don't even try to believe it. Shrug it off, it's impossible.
But what if it were possible? What if in some crazy impossible far off thought it were possible? Just that thought "what if . . . " is enough.
Doesn't it just sound so deliciously dangerous to you? So unfamiliar and unsafe and just so amazingly contrary to everything you've ever been taught, heard in school or learned from the hard knocks?
When you wake up to a dreary world in a dreary life, maybe it's just because you're sick of being safe? Safe is overrated. And the most unsafe place to be safe in? Maybe it’s just in the sheer possibility of believing in impossible things:
1. I can fly
2. When you can't sleep you're awake in someone else's dreams
3. The moon is in love with the sun
4. All music is a memory of a forgotten or never heard of place
5. All the times you thought you heard someone calling you were actually voices calling you to another world
6. A Man died and lived to tell about it
Believe impossible things and you start believing that maybe they aren’t so impossible.