Disney world the happiest place on earth

Disney World was never an illusion to me as a child; I could see right through it. "It's a theme park," my mom would explain to me. What an interesting idea. It was tangibility's final step in the evolution of imagination. First there were the playgrounds I knew as a child, consisting of swing-sets and slides, bare-boned tools that required our own minds to fill in the gaps if we wanted to be transported somewhere else with our playmates. Then there was the amusement park, requiring less imagination while still retaining all the valid symbolism. When we reached the top of the Ferris Wheel, it was as if we had conquered the globe, looking down on all the continents and the waters, all the life below us. The carnival games represented the "you-win-some, you-lose-some" aspects of our lives, demanding risk for rewards. The theme park, however, had the greatest edge. Whatever lied in our imaginations, whatever we took for granted on the page or from the screen, the theme park made these fantasies into visible realities in front of our eyes. The land of imagination existed; it was at the theme park.
I have been to Disney World in Orlando, Florida five times. I was four, seven, ten, eleven, and seventeen. I feel like it's been a big part of my life; I have memories of the shows, the rides, and the innovations. Disney World is not just a theme park; it's its own separate world of clean grass and trees, glossy highway strips and the warm glow of the sun. Indeed, a utopia hidden within the state of Florida. As we drove for twenty minutes through the resort, it was apparent how much land, how much space, the Disney empire had enveloped as its own.

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