It's magic, she says to me...

My definition of magic is not the classic, fairy tale kind. Magic to me is uncommon and unnatural. It is a connection to something more. It is that beautiful thing that happens in the middle of clanging, mis-matching, dysfunctional and dull every day life. When circumstances click instead of collide. You never see it coming, and you can never really hold onto it.

It is when you lose yourself completely in something. You sit to jot down a few words and before you know it, it's an hour later and some of your soul is laid out on paper. You hear a song that brings back everything from some moment years ago, what you were thinking, how you were feeling. After months of damp, cold, cold, brown weather, you wake up to white lawns and houses and frost-covered trees. Your football team wins a game it shouldn't have. You swim a race faster than you ever have before. You're reading a book and you come across a line that jumps right off the page and into your heart.

Magic happens randomly, without system or reason. But it always seems to come right when you need it, right when you can't take it anymore. When all you can see of life is the dullness and the sameness, never forget those strikes of magic. That is when you know that it's ok, it's always been ok, and you're going to live forever.