Remember that feeling of being a kid, building a fort out of blankets and chairs? The absolute certainty that it was a castle, a spaceship, a secret hideout. And then we grow up, and suddenly things *have* to be what they are. What if that rigid definition is just a grown-up blanket fort, limiting what we can build inside?
Remember that feeling of being a kid, building a fort out of blankets and chairs? The absolute certainty that it was a castle, a spaceship, a secret hideout. And then we grow up, and suddenly things *have* to be what they are. What if that rigid definition is just a grown-up blanket fort, limiting what we can build inside?
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