When I was very small and first saw Peter Pan, I thought the flying bit was very possible.
I had my faith.
I had the trust.
All I needed was the pixie dust.
Thats where my mommy came along, and helped me. We got a big bag of sequins, and the glitter at the bottom of the bag? That, she told me was the pixie dust.
So I stood on the bed (though mom tried to tell me it wouldnt work) and prepared to jump.
I took a fistful of the glitter and flinging it in the air, I jumped.
And promptly fell down.
It was very very disappointing. My lil' ol' heart almost broke from the intense sadness of the situation.
I had been looking forward to fly for so long, and when finally we had gotten all the ingredients, the ending was a huge fail.
As I look back on that day, I feel sad once again, for my crushed hopes, and as I look at myself now, at some things that are going on in my life at the moment, I feel a surge of hope.
If I got through being dissapointed at the failure of magic at that tender age?
I can certainly get through it now.
Though I wish, for the upteenth time, I had a fairygodmother who'd wave her magic wand and turn the asshole into the toad he is. :)
Oh and bestow upon me a brain so I can stop the mindless procrastination and study for the MEGASUPER CHEM EXAM I have tomorrow.