I can never reach the horizon.

But it creates a heck of a good view being just where it is.

Without the horizon, I do not know which way to go, and even if I go the right way, I will wonder why I did so, without any sense of purpose.

Here I am again, talking about attitudes towards life. I lost faith for a while, but now I’m back. I believe I created something of myself through this journal, and leaving would be forsaking that. Now I choose not to.

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Bridge to Terabithia

We are sometimes afraid of ourselves, conforming to what feels safe just to lessen our anxieties, our fears of the unknown, however good.

Why do we all hinder ourselves? Why do we hold back, in favor of being gray? Is is because we are afraid of loss?

Even when we know what can be, how life can be, why oh why do we still do nothing? Why do I do nothing?

Humans can be so special. Relationships can be so special. But we.. no, I. I am so afraid. I cannot hide behind mankind on this one. It’s childish, it’s introverted, it’s straight-out stupid, but I am afraid of letting anyone close. All my life, I have kept more distance from others than I can honestly say I’m happy with.

Why doesn’t matter. Whys are not just excuses, they are shields; shields of lies that you can hide behind and believe it’s okay that you’re doing something wrong. Psychology is an elaborate shield that lets us be gray with a clean conscience. I will not ponder on why I am afraid and distant, and then be happy with the reason I find most likely. I will not be happy with being like this for the rest of my life, with not being as I think people ought to be.

Difference starts somewhere. And then it spreads. We would all do best not to resist the kind of change that this movie inspires in us.

What if…?

The world is full of possibilities, of treasures and pitfalls. I implore you to forget the latter and aim for the former, or you might find yourself going in the wrong direction altogether.

So many possibilities. So many worlds. So many futures.

Which will I live? What have I got to choose from? Is the choice even mine?

How many joys have I forsaken already, what happiness have I excluded?

And if I were born in another time? Or on another planet, or in another universe altogether?

Believe it or not, this kind of thinking actually makes me feel very secure. I suppose it is because it removes my worries about the life I actually lead, it takes focus away from here and now. I am a dreamer. At least, I was, once. Not too long ago. I haven’t dreamt all that much the past year. But I want to dream again. For without dreams, there is only here and now, and currently that’s not all that exciting and adventurous.

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The Wonders of Imagination

Yesterday I refurnished my room. The practical reason was so there’d be better room for my christmas tree. But the true motivation for doing it was so the room would look and feel different. And it worked extremely well! The change in lighting (now from my christmas tree) gives the room an all-new atmosphere.

Despite that and the fact that is was December 1st, though, yesterday was a bad day. I can tell the bad ones from the good ones from the very moment I wake up; on the bad ones that moment is typically two hours after I wanted to wake up, and also two hours before I manage to get out of bed. Also it’s always cloudy and gray outside. I can still feel good on a bad day, through effort, using music, movies and art. But if I venture outside I will risk interacting with other people in a manner that might make me feel at a lack of social abilities, and I might lose whatever good mood I have in the blink of an eye and exchange it with grinding anxiety. So on bad days I tend to stay at home.

Today was another bad day, with a sky covered by homogenous rainclouds. Yet it’s been quite a special day, too. Even though nothing happened. Here’s how it went:

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Magic does so definitely exist in this world. It’s just a matter of definition and perspective.

I remember when magic was a day-to-day business for me. I’m talking about my childhood, of course. Sure, you could say that whatever magic I imagined was just that; imagination. It never existed, I was only fooling myself. But then I’d just shake my head, because that’s not the point. I still know magic.

Because the real magic is the moment itself, when magic and wonder really does seem real. Magic is when you can actually picture a world where heroes always win, where deceases and accidents don’t exist. Magic is when you really feel like there’s something more out there, something wondrous and curious and impossible. And magic is when the real world allows wondrous things of other worlds to happen here, too.

The last kind will happen only if you believe it can. If you don’t, the same might still happen, but you will discard it at coincidence, and your world will forever be boring.

I really look forward to the day I’ll be able to make magic happen for someone else.