If you believe the mundane is wonderful and peachy, good for you. I have to admit I’ve found it to be magical in and of itself, in its own way. But I became what I am because I didn’t like the way the world was. Hell, I didn’t like the way I was. I still don’t entirely, to be honest. So believe what you want, scoff at fantastical notions, mysticism, and the inspirations drawn from fictional stories… go ahead, if that’s your choice. But I won’t bog my dreams and aspirations down to conform to the limitations of ‘reality’. If I did, what would be the point of dreaming?