Bastian half-heartedly smears butter on his toast. His father approaches the table and sits down. Time for a father to son talk.

Father:
Son, I think it's time you and I had a little talk. I got a call from your math teacher yesterday. She says you were drawing horses in your math book.

Bastian:
Unicorns. They were unicorns.(mimics a unicorn)

Father:
What ?

Bastian:
Nothing….

Father:
She also says that you haven't been turning your homework in on time. And I'm very disappointed you didn't even try out for the swim-team.

( Pause )

As for those riding lessons you've been wanting you say you love horses yet you seem to be afraid to get on a real one. Now, Bastian, you're old enough to get your head out of the clouds and start keeping both feet on the ground. all right ?

(he takes a sip of drink.)

Bastian:
Ok.

Father:
Stop daydreaming and start facing your problems. Ok ? (ruffles Bastians hair)

Bastian:
Ok (he says with a half hearted smile)

Sophy Had a Pony--And They Named it Macaroni--It Was a Painted Little Spiritual Predator Pony---He Would Walk With it To Town to Buy a Pot of Tea and see---who could think like he.................

Sophy_'s IMAGINARY SPIRITUAL PREDATOR PONY FRIEND

Be Quiet. Listen to the Wind. Be still. Stop preaching to your Imaginary Pony Friend, for once. For Once.

Listen to those you serve.
Sing with those you serve.
Dance with those you serve.

And together you will serve each other.
Together you will love each other, in the sun and the rain.

Talking to people to persuade them to think like you---
Is the least you do, the least little way you care for one another.

Listening and accepting and working with Your People
Together in what you love to do, what you all yearn to do, together,
Is the Most you can do--the most you can care for yourselves.

Waving a fanatical arm warning while yelling against the wind
At them, from the sidelines of the iron railroad track
Is as useless and foolish and dangerous
As sunburned misssionaries flagging a weak hand at mounted Arapahos, to Be Ware,
Racing by Mr. and Mrs. Sophy_ with their thundering Bison herd.

Do you believe they know not, right where the cliff falls ?
Do you feel so special by walking and talking ?
Walking and talking along their ancient trails,
Secretly wishing you were born with a real horse, not a borrowed little spiritual pony.

If you can talk; you can sing to the Ponies.
If you can walk by the track; you can dance among the wildflowers.
If you can truly listen for many, many more days and nights than you talk, talk, talk,
Oh, white man from Indian Land !

Then, and only then, Your Song will be sung for years and years to come !
In the caress of the prairie wind,
Joyfully by all grandchildren who dreamdance of Your Love
Dancing with Wildflowers, swaying over your ivory bleached bones

What the fuck is this existential bullshit? Given that you got "wave" right just before the start of all the waiving, why are you even bothering?

__________________
Time is the distance that you can't return by miles.

I escaped somehow. Let's go

actualy [sic] I have quite a blessed life if I'm honest. I have many people to love, hate few and have few money problem's [sic].... What more does a person need? Oh yeah and I have some kind of humbleness unlike you of course ^_^ ~ CarefulCarpenter

...
This is the depth of poetic expression and interpretation. Good catch.

__________________
"Tell me what you see; and I'll know where you are"
~~cc

I gave love; you gave me a thistle;
We shared tenderness; then you ran away;
I planted a rose; and you blossomed;
I had fresh hopes; tho' winter froze them solid