It is probably a symptom of having a dissociative disorder but I hate stories where the magic leaves at the end, especially when it’s symbolic of growing up. I don’t want to go back to the real world. I already have to live in it. I hate stories that offer these beautiful magical escapes and then at the very end snatch them away with a smack that says “look how silly you are for wanting magic to be real. Grownups don’t think magic is real.” Like shut up!!!! Grownups think they’re sooooo clever for putting in “symbols” about how imagination is incompatible with adulthood. Shut up shut up shut up!!!!!! I will never stop dreaming, and you’ll never make me. I vowed that I would never write a story where the magic goes away. I never want to tell a small child reading my stories they’re not allowed to live there anymore.
CLIVE STAPLES IM GOING TO GET YOU.
















