There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re saying.
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I’ve got that feeling once again
I can’t explain you would not understand
This is not how I am.
What did you want to talk about, as a child?
Maybe it just didn’t seem to be as fulfilling without your imaginary friend, but the fellow sure was a good listener. He agreed with everything you decided, he brought up things that you might not yourself have thought of, and he was quick with ready suggestions that prevented all kinds of problems.
There were just matters that needed to be talked through, and the others weren’t really familiar with the notion or just how formidably commanding your friend felt about it. It was such a vivid feat of the imagination that it had a kind of form to it where it fed back everything you put in.
That was childhood. As the years passed and adolescence went to the sincere young man, he saw less and less of his fanciful companion. He hadn’t learned nearly so much now like yourself, what with the weeks and weeks and months and years of school, where the education was dull in comparison with the empty yard and the imaginary friend among the trees.
Holding model spaceships with a balled hand and indicating the stretch of the domestic yard around the house could take you from here, inspired by George Lucas’ famed films. I favoured the Rebel Alliance.
My concept of life after the Star Wars films galaxies reduced fewer resources, got myself and others out in the yard the same way when the other empty, pithy children were game. It was always after the events of Episode VI for me, never previous to the destruction of the second Death Star and the corporeal Emperor, settled for good until, incongruently, 2019’s The Rise of Skywalker.
At the point when I took a gander at the shores of Lake Erie, the lake took Princess Leia in her practical white Cloud City clothing that Lando thought to allow her to wear. She no longer tore such a beautiful image. Like Anakin said about his disgust for sand in the Star Wars films of the prequel trilogy… It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere. Her dignity. You’re free to like, follow, and additionally buy-in. It’s February tomorrow!