What Do You Have To Say? - Do You Believe?
I'm not quite sure when I really stopped believing in Santa Claus. It might have had something to do with the time when I found the same candy canes my parents had put in our stockings in the closet, but I think that was just the evidence. I had stopped truly believing long before.
It could be the fact that I, while believing firmly in emotions and abstract concepts like karma (I've seen it in action), am actually a bit of a realist. Daydreaming, fantisizing -- I do this more than the next person. Perhaps it's because, even as I little kid, I realized that, no, there is no monster lurking in my closet, and the Easter Bunny did not wave at my father from the driveway that I have such a huge imagination. I let it loose often, allowing it to wildly rampage across the plane of life and transform it into a mystical world. So, while part of me has trouble letting go of things like Santa Claus and resolutely has faith that fairies live in my yard, another part can do nothing but rationalize the cold world around me. It's the writing that keeps me going, and the people that keep me sane.