Pinocchio dreamed of being a real boy. But what is real? How many times will I ask myself that question? It seems that everything is temporary. If everything is temporary, is anything really real?
I’m not a talking cartoon squirrel dreaming that one day I will be a real squirrel… that, my friends, is a total waste of time and of a wish. I’m real enough… and I’m totally cool with that… at least for today.
