It is like...
Watching the moon outside your window each night...
Finding it thick with romance and mystery...
And then visiting it and seeing that all of those years...
You were admiring a stretch of cold dead land...
Full of dust and nothingness. 

Or like...
Playing in the rain as a child, and jumping in puddles,
And getting soaked until your shivering...
Then wrapping yourself in a blanket and watching as the
beads of light soaken water collect on the roses...
Only to have it explained to you by some fool who
thinks he knows about science, and has no real eye for
magic...
or beauty. 

Like...
Sitting out and watching the sunset...
And reading stories with no purpose, but to tell a tale that
will mystify the reader...
Or telling ghost stories at night in the shadows,
And finding yourself capable of believing them,
Without someone trying to show up and ruin it for you...
Tell you that you must come inside...
The stories aren't real...
And you know that...but you wish they wouldn't say it...
Because when they do...
You can't ever have it back again...

It's like Glitter...
Cheap, deceitful, and sparkling glitter. 
Sometimes we would like to forget that...
A lot of things become really dissapointing...
When you take away the glitter. 


DNB