I am crazy. There's paperwork on the matter. It's in my medical records under a name I rarely—if ever—use anymore.

But I am at peace with that. After all, one would certainly have to be completely crazy to think of the things I do, in the detail I do.

After discovering that the likelihood of a college accepting me and certifying me to teach kindergarten when I have a GPA of 2.1 was practically nihil, I realized that either my IQ had dropped dramatically, or public school simply was not working for me. And in the case of the latter (because as you can probably tell, my IQ is quite fine, thank you very much), teaching simply was not a very good idea. While I am comfortable in a classroom setting, I often find myself frustrated by the apparent idiocy of my would-be peers, which is something to which I don't intend to return. Not to mention, continued schooling and re-entry into a school environment would simply be impractical for me.

I consider myself to be very good with children. I wasn't always that fond of them, but now many parents and teachers have commented that they are amazed with my patience and devotion for them. Indeed: when placed in a room full of four-year-olds, I quickly become a human stunt-bag, and I positively love coming home bruised and exhausted from entertaining them.

It's because I see the world from their perspective, and that gives me an increased ability to give them what they want, what they need, even; after all, children develop through play. Entertaining children is the most effective way to educate them, and so much more enjoyable for everyone involved. Children are naturally inclined towards play; it's not learned behavior. And seeing the world through their eyes creates an understanding most adults seem to be lacking, and allows for a delicacy and influence many parents and babysitters could only dream of having.

For a while, I thought I would make a good parent. But when I took into consideration that the world has enough children in it—perhaps even too many—and that there simply are not enough people who are providing what these children need, I realized that it was my duty to focus on quality, not quantity. That, and I see my true calling as a friend and playmate for children.

I want to create a place where every second is playtime. A Utopian Playland in the form of a day care center, if you will. A place where children are free to play pretend and expand their horizons. I want to create a place where children are safe, while still being exposed to interesting and exciting things, where they will learn outside of a school environment, and they will learn through play and exploration. A place with food that is healthy and palatable at the same time, with cookies baked from scratch and fresh fruits and vegetables available to them, grown in the backyard garden, and drinks made with real juice and clean, pure water. No child should have to ingest formaldehyde, flouride or chlorine because his caregiver simply doesn't want to put forth the effort.

Because I am willing to put forth that effort. They are toxic chemicals, no human being should be ingesting them at all, especially not children.

What strikes me as strange is the utter lack of respect that adults have for children. So many parents and authority figures expect such idiotic and unnecessary things from them. Children are asked to sit down, be quiet, and to respect their elders, whereas adults will never do any of this in return. Children's television is condescending and insulting now, and I always recall the adults from when I was in day care falling back on the easy alternative to legitimate interest: a forced, sarcastic smile.

Why on Earth are these people working with children if they aren't willing to give their all? Why are the same people who say that the children are the future, disregarding the future—as well as the past and present—of the children? Do we somehow expect the next generation to solve our problems?

That is disgraceful. The human mind abhors the thought of leaving the defenseless to fend for themselves. And yet, this is what we are doing. Actually, no, allow me to correct myself: that is what they are doing. I want no part of this scheme.

If you want the children of the future to be the future, you must prepare them to step out of the past, so that the present may become the future for which you seem to be hoping. Stop disrespecting them, stop hindering them, stop hurting them, stop poisoning them, and stop brainwashing them. If you take a holier-than-thou attitude with a child, hold him back when it is unnecessary or deprive him of outlets, you threaten him with violence or beat him, you knowingly and willfully give him food, drink and medication that contains toxic chemicals, and you pound relative and subjective standards of right and wrong (when, I might add, you are in absolutely no position to do so) into his brain, thinking you will ultimately produce an idealist child, you will not instill behaviors of respect, creativity, charity and tolerance. We live in a world of information. If children don't know what's being done to them now, they'll find out eventually. And when they find out, you will have hell to pay. When a child discovers he had to drink water containing flouride—which, contrary to popular belief, does not prevent tooth decay, but does damage the pineal gland, therefore upsetting melatonin production and causing problems with the onset of puberty and aggravating chronic insomnia and some forms of mental illness—his whole life, or discovers that not only did the vaccinations he was forced to take when he was younger cause him a substantial amount of pain and stress, but that they contained mercury, he will not be thrilled. He will be angry, and he will want revenge. It's not just the teenage hormones, it's a genuine feeling of disappointment and anger. If you always tell your children to treat others the way they'd like to be treated, the best way to enforce that is by practicing what you preach. You don't want your children to become people who want revenge, but you're not doing a very good job of preventing it.

Hence my vision for the Cardboard Spaceship. Los Angeles will keep me at a stone's throw from the entertainment industry, where I hope to write for children's television while bringing a sanctuary for playtime and happiness into their lives.