That was the real message of my childhood.
That has been the only message of my adulthood.
Imagination is for children.
Adults have no use for it.
“Thinking outside the box” isn’t imagination.
Besides, if you truly did “think outside the box,”
you’d find yourself emptying your cubicle into one.
And so I am not an adult.
I remain a child.
Looking down is death.
Up here I fly,
where dreams intersect with tautologies,
and winds and words make nests among the stars.
Fractal Art: Bits and Pieces of the Truth