In my life nothing and no one is perfect except the calm sound of a river in a soundless forest または the gental grace of a deer in the wild. I find no perfection in tall skyscrapers または new paved streets. The smell of freshly cut 草 smells like it's own blood. The only place I have true perfection is in my own mind where a river of thoughts always runs and eventualy tricals down over my eyes where I find myself in my own wonderland until I am snapped back to the world of imperfect things. But when I snap back I still ponder and remember what I did in my wonderland. I have swam with マーメイド down to the deep reaches of the ocean to find atlantis. I have flown with birds across a valley of many flowers, I have slept in a cave at the foot of a 丘, ヒル with a くま, クマ cub, I have swam in a river and over a water fall. My encounters only remembered a few years later によって pictures I drew. I always think once I snap back "why not a little longer? why not let me dream a little longer?"