When I was a little boy, I spent the afternoon watching the birds in the cushion of the neighboring yard, away from the turmoil that plagued my family, tried to make a place in my imagination that would escape me from all that suffering, a place where birds and strange creatures danced amidst branches and flowers, the magician and the stranger gathered to make me smile even for a minute.
Little did I know that one day my own imagination would be my most terrible enemy and at the same time my savior.
I...
