I was scribbling wildflowers on your pages,
and touching the clouds in your daydreams.
I was too busy befriending Imagination and fighting
Realism off with paper swords that I hardly noticed,
in the realm of the surreal,
I hadn’t lived my life yet.
I spent what felt like a lifetime or more
suffering in agony over someone else’s realism,
Before I finally realized I was the creator all along.
And that my world,
no matter the realm,
Could be as blissful and real as I’d like it to be.
– BIATA, ‘My paper swords always crumble‘