World on the move

Primafacie, everything is predestined, but to an extent everything is predictible. Imagination at its best, reverie behind a thought and a spark propelling an action, these seem to be the food for thought for the phantasmagorical world. Each day I wake up to the chirping of birds, indicating a new world in the making. I may not have dreamt of everthing, but the dream is already in practice in some part of the world. I fantasize about illusions, but only to see them changing into reality. I write captions about the illusory world, but the next moment I awaken to see them really existing. I stop writing for a few days, but my thoughts never allow me to do so. I start a new blog on the developments on earth, but people are already planning to develop the moon. I plan to move towards moon, but people have started exploring Mars. I plan to visualize something that had never existed, but people already propounded theories about the never existent till now. I want to create something new, but the new may not be new the next day. I see the phantasmagorical world, but the world sees me as an amateur new to this field still learning to accept the fact that it has a lot more to offer which no one would ever visualise.