It's been such a long time since I've forgot how it's like to dream, how to emerge into a dream, a story, and to live it with all my heart; like during my childhood, with the same sparkling eyes. Ididn't even realize when it faded away, I just found myself not being able to feel that warmth which pourred inside my chest each and every time a good deed made me lose a tear and smile gently towards the book I was reading or the movie I was watching.
When did I become this cold and serious person? seriosity is the last thing I really need in this world. Who was it that said that we shouldn't take ourselves to serious or we will never get out alive??
In this meantime I've lost the capacity to forgive and forget, the capacity to regenerate, to go back to the good and innocent roots.
I didn't even realize it came back to me. My childhood has come back while watching a movie, or maybe reading a book...
I don't even really know, but what I do know is that after years of living in the shadow of past feelings, suddenly these are back, and that familiar warmth is back.
Only stories can give us that, only they can take us back to innocence, to the goodness we've forgot, to the ability to dream. For where would we be without dreams?
This came to me last night while I was watchig The Chronicles of Narnia- The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Why did I wait so long to watch it? I must say everything happens for a reason, maybe I wasn't ready yet to receive its message. A wonderful story, now I have to read the books!
Wishing you a happy Saturday!