We search for the improbable, forever hoping to come across that which
we think will bring us the happiness that we seek.
Spending a life trying to prove that myths can become realities, that
tragedy can become reason for hope.
I have been searching for a way to turn fiction into fact, all the while
stumbling along the road I believe I have chosen to take, and all the while
trying to believe that anything set free will come back, as long as I will it.
I have listened to the words from the wise, and against all caution I am
still seeking out that which does not exist, I am still searching my history
for a cornerstone to hold onto.
We are surrounded by the ideas of a world made up of only ideas, and
each one tries to tell us what logic is, what myths really are; each one trying
to decide our next move for us, while we pretend that the choice is still ours.
If I come across the treasure I have sought to find, if I find something
that should not be kept a secret, and if one day, myth becomes possible, I am
not sure if I will trust this world with my discovery, I am not so sure that I
won’t bury this treasure far below the eyes of the world.
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