I want to make stories.
the kind you sit around a bonfire and talk about, quietly laughing and reminiscing as you forget about the marshmallow you're toasting.
the kind where you're free. infinite as you speed down the highway in plastic scooters for little kids. shouting, hair in your face, and friends by your side.
the kind you return from with a dazed smile on your face and flop down on your bed, a flower crown on your hair and not a single demon in your head.
the kind when you forget who you are for a little bit. you can break into amusement parks, shoplift ice cream at five a.m, and for once say hakuna matata and mean it.
the kind I've never made so far.