Life was like an ocean, and I was the swimmer, so little and insignificant. Endless hours of Barbies, of creating stories in which I would forever lose myself. The tape recorder marking down my voice, a babyish story in times long forgotten. A blanket, a stuffed cat, the ticket to my fancy. My house was built of wooden bricks, my soul free to roam the endless fields of my condo. Two pig tails dancing with the wind, as I swung the day away, closing my eyes and singing about sparkles and rainbows and everything no one else had time to sing about.
I saved my cousin from a blizzard in the middle of summer, and we were married three times. I was Underwater Girl and I could see the end of the universe...
I liked to dance and I liked to laugh and I loved to cry over little things.
Center of attention---
Touched by dreams---
Lost in imagination---
It was my job to save the world and it was my duty to smile while doing so.
It was my job to create fantasies from innocence and my duty to make them last as long as the day was long.
But, alas, I am now retired.