broken parabolic



2 February 2010

"That very night in Max's room a forest grew and grew and grew until his ceiling hung with vines and the walls became the world all around and an ocean tumbled by with a private boat for Max and he sailed off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are."

Maurice Sendak
Where the Wild Things Are

I really didn't lose that little part of Max in me that just wanted, on some days, to be someplace far away and very different where I was in charge without question and everything else actually feared me.

And I'm betting you didn't, either.

But here in this place someone loves me best of all and my supper is always hot, whether I wore my wolf suit today or not. So tonight, it's OK if trees don't grow out of my bedposts.

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