where did all that magic go?

you get older and the universe solidifies, calcifies. it becomes arthritic and stiff. No place for fantasy. The stiffness and pain obfuscates. The responsibility comes to wash it all away. It’s not that we becomes responsible for things other than ourselves. it certainly isn’t the fault of those we are responsible for. It’s simply that fantasy is unsafe, and to others , unsightly. there’s nothing “grown up” or healthy about retreating from fantasy. it’s a sickness of the spirit. it leaves us with nothing but bone and cartilage. A skull devoid of flesh.