The doorway to dreams isn’t what it is thought to be.
There are no clouds painted to look like cotton candy.
There are no winged children, giggling happily.
There are no sparks or shines or glimmers.
There is only a door.
A completely solid white door.
It is up to Y-O-U to design it.
It cannot be created without one willing it to be.
It has to be wanted.
It has to be needed.
A smidge of ambition and there it is.
Waiting to be thought.
Waiting to be modeled.
Waiting to be opened.