Such a mentality do I have for a very young age. But I do truly guess that my vision of my environment is a gift i should be treasuring. As a secondary school student, of course I have an inclination to juvenile activities; yet also, I am aware, more aware, of the prospects, the vision of tomorrow, to me which indeed is exciting. I am living, I do think, in constant reverie; I had therefore concluded that my mind's content is never that ephemeral, for in every other moment that rushes through, I still think of those endless prospectives. They never pass out in a single rotation of the Earth.My mind travels through various places and times, which is very astonishing for I can really prove the tangibility of my illusions. My hours are spent with infinite stories of fabulous creatures. And I, as an outcome, see that every time, my mind increases in breadth. If I would have strong tolerance of the distractions of man, I could've lived inside my own mind, with no limits in superiority, no limits in all imaginable.But I do realize that it would be my complete madness if I let my psyche be forever floating in the vacuums of space.I believe that the strong voices of my family, which irritate a lot; the orders of the commander-in-chief, that boil my blood to the nth degree, keep me alive in the reality. Fantasy is, perhaps, the reality that I could never experience then.The moderate flow of the water on the creek, the view that I could see from the balcony, acutely entices me to propel my imagination.But to my misfortune, I grow with the attachment of a hypercritical quality. As I sit on the balcony and scrutinize the passers-by, who are of different yet frolic attributes, my eyes couldn't seem to avoid being that detailed as the owl's, every motion recorded in my highly defined, natural image-recording device.
