I believe in magic. I believe in fairies. I believe in other worlds. I believe in the power of the imagination. I believe in the power that imagination has on this universe. See, me, I’m a believer. In the impossible. In the improbable. In the inexplicable fact that no one really knows anything about life.

As I sit here, listening to Supernatural play in the background, surrounded by numerous books on the occult, fairies, and mythology, I ponder. Just like everyone else, I ponder about life and death; love and hate; everything I know and don’t know runs through my mind. I’m a writer. I live in my imagination, sometimes making trips to reality for food and socialization, to refuel and rest. My imagination is the reason I believe. The waking world is just my waiting period to catch another glimpse of that remarkable world.

My question is: Do you believe?