Written by Purple Rocks and Culture Shock

Let me begin with a disclaimer; there is a lot that I cannot say.

The world of Disney is shrouded in secrecy. In order to keep the magic alive, we are sworn to some sort of unspoken, unwritten code of silence. Going against this code can lead to irreparable repercussions, which means that much of my time here may only ever breath and live on within the secure walls of my own mind.

I have photos that the eyes of social media will never see. I have stories that many ears will never hear. Some days will be all sorts of flavoursome, and I will be alone in dealing with the sour taste on my tongue.

It isn’t all unicorns and rainbows. The days are long, the shifts repetitive. Not every face is a friendly one, and as I pull my sheets up around my shoulders, it is the unpleasant comments from disgruntled guests that hail me into my dreamscape.

Remembering the bad things is easy. To dwell on the ignorant, to be consumed by the exhaustion, to surrender to the power of it all, that is simple.

The real challenge, the true test, is peering beyond. Beyond the aching feet and the tedious bus rides and the black, sticky insanity that threatens to devour you.

Because there is more. There is so much more.

There is a magic that lives within the parapets of Disney. It is a tangible, transcendent reality that does not exist anywhere else. It settles around you like an invisible mist, a weightless blanket that cloaks you from the actuality of the outside world.

I had heard stories of this magic. I had seen the pictures. The concept was foreign and incomprehensible, and it wasn’t until I arrived here that I finally understood.

This place has allowed me to regress, back to a time when frogs were princes and beasts were beautiful, when elephants could fly and when girls would disappear into the abyss of a rabbit hole.

Despite the steady passing of days, I continue to be innocently awestruck by the wave of a princess or the smile from her prince. Each and every hug from a mouse, or a dog, or a duck, is as sentimental and as heart-warming as the very first. The caramel apples somehow taste sweeter, the fireworks shine brighter, the roller coasters fly faster.

My time here is slipping away from me, and fixating on anything but the wonder that encompasses all this beauty is ludicrous.

It is ludicrous because I have seen the smiles of children entertained by my kindness.

It is ludicrous because I have witnessed the gratitude clear in the eyes of their parents.

It is ludicrous because I have the gift of living out my current days at the happiest place on earth, where the magic is as palpable as Cinderella’s castle is tall.

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