Truemomentum

Since childhood I love magic. Sometimes I believe that I am not alone that there is someone with me or looking at me. Maybe my ghost friend or maybe my angel.
Many of us vivid the memories of the fairy tale story of Cinderella. sitting in the ashes, sad and in disarray. Cinderella is a girl that never had fun and always had to do household chores on her everyday life. Even so, she was power less to improve her condition( just like me when I look around my messy room.)
But then we all glad when Cinderella meet the prince who whisked her off to a beautiful castle, where she never had to turn her hand to do the household. I wish I can be like her. But of course it is a fairy tale. And who brought about the wonderful transformation? Why, her fairy god mother, of course.
For years I waited for my fairy godmother to show up, wave her magic wand over me, and magically change my mess into glorious order, my frustration into joy. But it will never happen. The fairy godmothernever came to my house. Nor did the elves who worked for the shoemaker while he slept. Nor did the my prince charming come, with the reviving kiss, or any of those magical things, fairy tale people whom I had subliminally pinned my hopes.
Then I learned where the magic really is and it changed my life. Magic is a dream, well I can’t just wait for magic to help me clean my room. I don’t have to wait for magic what I need to do is to clean my mess by myself