My mind takes me to places with balloons, apple shaped cupcakes and everything connected with childhood without the actual children.
Positive thinking is completely infectious to me. My immune system shuts down to a smile and in terms of thinking it is completely destroyed when it comes to happiness.
It's like my brain has a constant cold that like the real physical virus, it can't shake off for good; it will always mutate and return to me affecting every move that i make.
But here is where that metaphor stops as it doesn't portray the right image for positivity.
So i'm going to give it a shot of amour and say positive thinking is like a balloon.
A bright red balloon that cannot be grounded until the air runs out.
Imagine a place where every day, there is a girl with a balloon holding onto its string, surrounded by flowers; my favourite calla lilies, bluebells, daffodils growing around her feet, the vines wrapping slowly up her ankles.
She glows from the reflection of buttercups as the sunflowers and birds of paradise brush up against her free hand and in the backdrop, a single billowing willow tree. It seems to pour bright lights as spores from the tips of its branches.
She smiles, with a light grip on the the string her fingers unfold like a flower opening to the sun and the balloon just floats.
And it goes up...
And up towards the sky.
And the corners of my mouth mimic its route.
Like the child and sunflowers do, everyone who sees the balloon will look towards the sun and smile until its deflation; the end is sad.
But there will always be more balloons.
There will always be more things to smile about.
There will always be you, standing among the flowers and spores with your bag of balloons and your infectious happiness.
Spreading smiles and magic and inspiring me to stand under the willow tree in the pixie dust and take a deep breath in .
(For P.V; If Palahniuk is my inkwell then you are my refill.)
And with this i give you the better end of the magnet.