Something to believe in
(for my husband, i always believed in)

LONG AGO.....
I truly believed America WAS Disneyland. I saw a touristic documentary about it on tv.
They also showed a tiny alley, "bubblegumalley". The whole alley was covered in pink bubblegum. I forgot where that alley was. But for me then, America was a tiny place. A place where people lauged, played, and chew on pink bazooka's all day.
Since that day i wanted to go to America. I was just five years old, and dreamed and daydreamed about it. I even build " a flying bathtub" in my daddy's jubkyard. After school i flew to America, chew on pink bubblegum while i blow bubbles huge as i was, and ride the rollercoasters with Mickey M till i was tired. Then i flew back home.
My friends in school where jealous of my adventures. And believe me, i felt sorry for them, but told them in all honesty: "Too bad, the machine is just build for one person".

Teachers in school called me a dreamer. It was always hard for me to concentrate, because when i looked outside of the window, it seemed the real interesting things happend there.
A mommabird with a worm in her mouth, on her way back home to feed her baby's. I imagined how happy the baby's would be, and start singing all together when she arrived.
Or i loved to watch how the autumnleaves fell down, and let a beautifull carpet on the cold grey stones in front of the school. I wondered how many different colours of red there where in world. I still don't know the answer.

A change came that summer, i was six years old. My best friend told me: "Santaklaus isn't real". I didn't say much, or i totally understood where she was talking about.
Once at home i told my momma what i heard about Santaklaus. Momma's face was serious. She didn't laughed, or said something like: "Ofcourse Santaklaus is real".
Instead she said:"Your friend is right. It is all just a tale for children".
I still didn't understood. But where the presents came from? Who ate the carrot i left for the horse? Where are the drawings i specially made for Santa?
Momma explained me the truth. The family bought the presents, the rabbit ate the carrot, and the she hide the drawings.
I felt so been lied too! But most of all desillusionated!
I cried in my bed, my head hidden in the pillow. All i screamed, almost begged, was:" Please momma, tell me all you said ain't true".

Since the day momma told me about Santa, my head felt like a labyrinth of filosofic questions. "How you know for sure there is a God, when nobody can see Him?" "How you know for sure your parents are your real parents?"
"Why we gonna die?" "Why there are still wars. Because when everyone is able to make one other person happy, wouldn't we have a perfect, peaceful world then?" "Is there really a monster of Loch Ness?"
I never found proof to answer my questions. But for some reason it didn't matter. Because the world is full of unsolved mysteries. And i crave the magic. And maybe i really don't wanna know the answers.

Over the years i found out, more things weren't how i thought they where. When the sky is orange.....it's not because of the angel's baking cookies in heaven. When it thunders.....the angels don't take a picture of me. There are princesses, but they don't live in pink castles, wear pink clothes every day, and brush there long silky blond lockes with a brush made out of horsemanes. And Disneyland was a familypark in a huge country, called Amerika. The children there also had to go to school.
I still doubted the pot of gold on the end of the rainbow. Maybe nobody ever was fast enough to find it. Or that there lived midgets in the red with white polkadotted roofed mushrooms. You only could see them with a microscope, granny told me. And then you also could see their laundry outside, waving in the wind on a string between two dandelions. But that was probebly because i didn't had a microscope.

Thirty years later....., i still wish secretly upon a star. Blow on fluffy dandelion's........he loves me, .........he loves me not.......(and my heart jumps when the last blow is he loves me), two kardinals at the same moment "im gonna have a lucky day". And a four leave clover, i keep as a real treasure.

I love to sit outside, in the swingcouch. Where i hear the crickets, and the birds. And in between, i enjoy the sound of silence. It's a place i love to think, love to daydream.
The couch was swinging slowly, and i was thinking about the place we lived before. An old motel, what wasn't a motel anymore. Just a few rooms for rent, by the week or month. There where four doors. In the first room lived an old lady. I called her the fortuneteller. Her hair was colored the deepest black i ever saw.
I called her "the fortuneteller". Her hair was colored the deepest black i ever saw, and her lips where always painted bloodyred. She always had her door open, even when she used the bathroom. No, she wasn't a fortuneteller. For some reason i always thought that she even dont want to be remind on her own past, or that she had plans for the future. Behind the second door lived "the canman". All he did was collecting cans all day. He even hitchhiked to other places to find some luck. His room was so full of cans that he had to sleep on the porch.
In room number three lived "the sick man". I'm not sure or he was sick, but his face was always pale. Even when he was sitting on the porch the whole day

I Wasnt' sure or he could talk. Sometimes his lips moved in a weak: "hello". But i never heard a sound.
The fourth door was ours. The tiny room was smelly, there lived a woman with a pea**** before. Till that day i never smelled a pea****, and i didn't missed alot. Even after shampooing, it smelled or the pea**** was still there. Er lived mice, roaches, and some snails had there second house in the bathroom. We called our room:"the whorehouse". That was because of the curly curtains, and the string of plastic parrotlights whom lightning the whole room red. It looked like that kind of Amsterdamwindow, where woman dance, and you can spend some minutes with, or longer. Depends on how much cash, and / or energy you have.
That one evening we had an open bottle of wine (a gift from a friend, who plan to make a trip and couldn't finish the rest of it). We drunk the expensive wine out of papercups, a tiny candle was burning. When i looked into my husbands eyes, all i saw was LOVE.
At that moment i felt like a princess in a pink castle. Our cups where made out of the finest glass, the one candle was a chandelier, the plastic parrots where white doves, who circle around slowly.

It must have been a while since i was sitting on the swingcouch. The sky had change colors; orange, bright yellow, and it seemed or someone painted tiny brushstrikes of indigoblue in it. The sky looked like one huge, peaceful burning fire. Or angels where baking cookies in heaven. I almost could see them in their transperent white dresses, stirring flour in shiny copperpots, while they where singing quiet almost whispering.

I don't know how long i was staring into the fire. But i felt my husbands arm around me. I didn't hear, or saw him comeing. He kissed my hair, and asked:"What you was thinking about my princess?"
"Ow, not much baby," i said. I didn't want to tell him about the angels who where baking cookies. But instead i said something i truly believed in;"Do you know what? After all we went through, and still going through.....I'm sure we will live happily ever after.....

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Beneath the make up & Behind the smile
I'm just a girl who wishes for the world
(Marilyn Monroe)

America is beautiful Pennylane, with the love and determination, you both will find that house with the white picket fence, no pea**** smells and mice and roaches. Keep your dreams and you will find the American dream is there.

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Honey you will live "Happy ever after" no matter where the road takes you because that is a choice, you choose the way in which you view the world and you know i wish you both nothing but the very best. Thanks for sharing your thoughts, my day will start and end with a smile. Sending a hug from across the pond.

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The last of all freedoms is the ability to choose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances.
G. W. Allport.

The reason why
You know what you must do. And yet how do you get yourself to do it?
Again and again, remind yourself why. With a strong enough reason why, you will be able to do anything at any time in any circumstance.
If you're tempted to put off a task until later, remind yourself why you truly want to get it done. Put a powerful why behind it, and you'll find a way to do it now.
Real achievement demands many consistent, focused efforts spread over long periods of time. The way to keep it up is to keep it meaningful.
Give your long-term intentions the opportunity to dispel the short-term, momentary urges. With a clear, solid purpose firmly in mind, you'll stay reliably on track.
Whatever you choose to imagine can happen for you. Constantly give your goals a sincere reason why, and you'll bring them steadily to life.
~Ralph Marston~

Keep visualising your dream penny, it will happen eventually.
Im also left wondering what a pea**** smells like.

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"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams"

"Fall seven times, stand up eight"

"Go back a little to leap further"

Excellence can be obtained if you:
care more than others think is wise;
risk more than others think is safe;
dream more than others think is practical;
expect more than others think is possible.

LOL UK, loved the verse.

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The last of all freedoms is the ability to choose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances.
G. W. Allport.