what do you think?

In my life nothing and no one is perfect except the calm sound of a river in a soundless forest or the gental grace of a deer in the wild. I find no perfection in tall skyscrapers or new paved streets. The smell of freshly cut grama 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 sereias 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 colina with a urso cub, I have swam in a river and over a water fall. My encounters only remembered a few years later por pictures I drew. I always think once I snap back "why not a little longer? why not let me dream a little longer?"