I want to run away with my family to a place where there is perpetual summer and no one grows old and no one changes. And because of this, I am crazy. Because the fact is life is nothing but change. When we arise each morning, we’re different people. The crease of a new wrinkle on your forehead. The sprout of a silver hair. A new idea in the mind of a child that takes her farther away from innocence.
And yet, despite this great and inevitable concept that nothing is static, static is what I want. Which, when I think about it, is akin to death. To die in a bottle that floats on the sea. A perfect world where the laughter of youth echoes forever.