Before the skies twisted
and before the stars became faded
I flew in a place
where dreams could be chased
and where a scarcity was considered as sane,
I didn't have to have wings to fly,
I just had me, myself, and I,
For I flew inside of Neverland.

I'm J.Z., I'm 17, and writing is my way of imagining.

You know when you are a small child? Believing in all things magical, and feeling something indescribable? When your imagination is  flying everywhere, and your mind is lit up at the idea of just about anything? When your heart flutters out of your chest, and creates what you love for that very instant? That is what I get from writing, and even though I no longer am awed at how Santa fit down the chimney, or at how rainbows end  with a pot of gold, writing makes me feel that exact same feeling, something absolutely and simplistically wonderful. Neverland is the state of being enlightened with imagination, and even if imagination isn't something as easily grasped as it once was, writing grasps back that imagination for me, and takes me into Neverland, my one place, where my thoughts fly and my mind soars.