You can live, and be happy, inside your own mind only for a short time.
Fantasies become dreams: and leashed dreams are like a box filled with colour, never opened.
We are not islands.
When you release your heart to flight new opportunities seem born in every star; hopes sparkle and leaves glimmer and laugh with the sun; neon flickers on a rippling river running through a city of magic.
Ecstacy is found on another plane of existence: a plane that, when you arrive there, feels more real and more tangible than any basic human consciousness. It breathes with you.
We are not islands.
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