I’m just a regular teenage girl and like most people, my mind wanders. It wanders to an unchartered land, to territories I can’t go with open eyes and absolutely not without pixie dust and a magic wand in my hand. It’s crazy how imaginative it gets, how it refuses to recognize all boundaries and forgets where limits and worries lie. Sometimes I’m the hero and most times I’m the reason for a historical dynasty’s decline. And my mind being truly mine is so damn experimental; guess it really enjoys recording my reactions in all eerily possible dreamy situations. But this is the case of only happy or normal nights.Often on dry forlorn ones, it’s inquisitive; wants to discern where my roots lie. On such nights, my mind; a bird of passage: its destiny being the unidentified.