On things that kill the magic


Magic does exist. Just not as fairy-tales fool you into believing. The translation is all wrong. The dragons we fight sometimes have more than three/five/nine heads. And we don’t always win. The frogs we kiss may forever remain frogs and the lake is getting poorer and poorer.”the ever afters” last less than a heartbeat. The magic objects come in the form of make up, credit cards and gadgets, skillfully used to make some (pathetic) wishes come true. The knights leave their horses at home, and pick you up with their latest model cars, fight in slang, not with swords-that if they fight for you at all. The damsel in distress sometimes fights better, punches better and damn sure wants more than a marriage and then die peacefully. The young prince doesn’t need a good cook- you can always go to a restaurant or just stop at a fastfood. He doesn’t need a person, he wants a Kitchen Aid.Telling the lie won’t make your nose grow, because if it were so, the earth seen from the moon would look like a giant hedgehog. Telling the truth won’t get you anywhere. Maybe only be stepped on /tossed away/looked upon as a strange and unusual creature. Doing good to others will rarely bring you good in return. And even more rarely a Thank you. The wicked may live and prosper without any hindering, while kindness and honesty are on the brim of extinction.

And yet, magic does exist. Magic DOES exist.Not land of colored candy, but one of plain green grass and blueish skies, snow capped mountains and greenish seawater. The trees don’t talk to you, unless you want them to. And then they don’t shut up.And fairies come in the form of family members, not always blonde and not always slim. Or they may be people you have known for years , but never knew their magic. Because magic doesn’t come in glitter or screaming. And it doesn’t come in huge chunks, only in small bits,almost invisible little things, you have to see with the. The flight of the bird nesting on your house. The reddish autumn leaves on your porch, taken by the first gust of wind. The first snow or the first kiss. The sunlight knocking silently on windows.The moonlight sneaking under the blanket to sleep with you. A sip of wine on the tip of the tongue.A mouth of cold water, straight from the spring. The sight of old people walking hand in hand. Old photos with (star)dust on them. And sometimes stardust inside people who don’t even know they have it. Just a sprinkle of that and numb, sleeping heroes come to life. Life in the bulbs of flowers, in the almost  painfully familiar smell of clothes worn by the loved ones. In sincere smiles, true hugs, with the promise of extending lives. Did you even know that every time you hug somebody with all your heart, it prolongs the life of both the one who gives it and the one who receives it? What is that, if not magic? To be able to give somebody more life with a simple gesture…Because it is WE who make and do the magic. It resides in the inner corners of the empty carcass we carry around, under the apparently dusty layers of pure magic. It sleeps like a volcano, sometimes for ages. And it takes some sort of spell to make the hot lava come to surface, where it should be, in different forms and shapes. All unique, all priceless.Magic resides in all our beautiful oddities.

Today, at least what remained of today, I believe in the magic within people. Because if I don’t, this world is so barren and meaningless that I might be as well as dead…And I feel so alive (today).


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