“What is it like? Neverland?” She asked in with a considerate yet curious gaze.
“One day I’ll take you there” he replied in a blissful and humble manner.
Ever wondered wandering off an ocean coast, or those dark yet beautiful woods, without someone noticing . To linger upon the stardust or to stroll under the moon light,there is a firefly inside you at those times, like a fire burning at the back of your eyes , encroached with the same vehemence that arises when one talks about her/his passion.
In those tender but hectic memories, you can relive those places, the odor with the feeling of sameness, that sunset , those colors, not just once but you can feel them twice, like a dream catcher.
Keeping a feeble and tiny outlandish part of your subconscious mind and treasuring it till days to consume it fresh, just like cheese , still tasting winsome and still holding back the pungency and fresh taste with a bit of sourness, after all these years.
The days where no one can ravage your world of fantasy, or the delusion of it.Imagine a place where thoughts floated on the pretty souls and the perception could have been so gorgeous, and that no one can judge them.
A place where you can tinker with your emotions, but awe the others’ . A place where your shadow can never leave you in the midst of darkness, the people painting artistic smiles on everyone’s faces.
A place where people fall in love with the way someone looked at the stars, read a book or talked about their desire with full passion in their eyes or just the way they were when no one saw them.
A place as safe as a mother’s womb with serendipity growing around like pink blossoms and inheriting our brains. A place where you don’t have to sleep to live your dreams, where you can feel a couple of things twice.
A place when your angels dance with your own demons and the prom gives a way towards finding yourself , where you can just silently think and live those dreams once you thought of, to live those lyrics of your songs with a vague remembrance of grief, to live with imperfection , or just making pancakes and a hot cup of coffee,reading a book or standing on the balcony adoring the surreal universe that only you’ve painted, or laying drunk on the bed at 3 a.m and laughing way too hard with the love of your life and thinking that ‘This is the thing you’ve always thought of ‘
Living a life, so modest and pure,like the colors in autumn so lively and non-pretentious , as simple as the way like a mother kisses her child, or as simple as a book- to live hundreds of lives in one .
Its not about the luxury ,I find it very treacherous that people find it easy to cry in a limo,I mean its like saying that staying in a villa isolated for the rest of your life is better than one night under the stars .You can feel the luxury in a small adventure or just a trek down the hill, or to bathe in a small stream with wild flowers in your hair, or explore the unseen places, or publish your own novel.
You can create your own Neverland , where you can live forever young , or die with no regrets and just memories.
All you have to do is – Believe.