Perhaps nothing inspires its magical thinking more than the Moon. It imagines that one day Disney just might animate and score our own. As our transits and progressions, then our solar and lunar returns, roll out the printer, it snatches them up, eager for fantastic news: Oh, a good-looking Venus! Finally, our soul mate arrives! Or maybe a bag of ten-thousand-dollar bills will be left in a dumpster and a fated breeze will flutter one of the bills into our astonished hand! This innocent self still believes in the reality and democracy of fairy tales. Each morning it wonders if this is the day we've been waiting for, when a miracle might buzz our cell phone. I'm convinced that no matter how cynical and world-weary the countenance, a childlike innocence still gambols in our psyche.
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