Just A Bout of Silliness, Really...

Is it such a folly to want my innocence back? I know I went on about this quite awhile ago, but again the desire penetrates my heart with a surging importance. It seems that in this world, children grow up depraved of childhood, starved of the only thing they should be fed. Michael touched on this in his remarkably eloquent blog post, sharing a waxing poetic perspective of that which has haunted man for generations. The brilliant novelty of a dream or the spark of imagination has been struck down by the bane of reality. "Now," Michael remarks, "we have chemical reactions and particle waves and so many different ways to say 'I don't believe.'" Our parents taught us to be sensible, so we stopped believing in the abstract. It is a phenomenon that I can hardly stand to think of, yet myself bear witness to every day of my life.

As a child, I was forced by mere circumstance to bring my head down out of the clouds, to face the grotesque image of society and its terrors. But now I see why there is so much truth to the fact that the magic is always in the beginning and the end; An innocent heaven is found in the clouds, and we should keep every shred of it that we can. Bliss -not carnal pleasure or the thrill of wealth- lies amidst the vapors of innocence. It does not come in a mass-produced plastic case with an apple printed neatly on the side; it is not found for sale with bids starting at $125. It is thin and untraceable save for the fact that it brings incredible freedom, and it can only be found in those clouds so far up high- where all sensible earthly oxygen is abandoned and the face of gravity has long been faded. It is now that I realize the terrible fall that man makes when he tumbles from the peak of childhood, and must begin again from a trench. It is also why I will teach my children to make the beginning last forever and the end worthwhile.