And with a sudden exclamation and an intense lack of acknowledgement for authority...
There are so many things I need to do and so many I want to. This world is emmintnly vast, yet my entrance is choked and tight. What is this motivation that binds and ties and drags this physical shell I've been assigned? What is my vocation? People I know, people I care for float about me; I can sense their auras, their state of being, their warmth, their love, their laughter striking patterns in the air to come across and overlay my own. Waves float about, these people are light in a dark room, glowing with etheral light, each with their own point of view, beliefs, pains, sacrifices, each with their own beauty. Fireflys of souls dancing in the damp, clear night, slight overcast upon a sideways silver moon, wet grass beneath my feet, heart and head full of lucid dreams. What flails about on the inside clamours for release and attention, I oft wonder how long it shall be retained..Painting under the excuse for a school assignment to release sentimentality(? that is the only word that could correctly describe and encompass all the emotions at this time) my ears perk to the sound of four familar guitar chords emitting from the radio; Why does that song sound so familiar? Various faces come to mind as the words played by, faster and faster, a violent carousel of memeories, I wonder if you're listening. Everythign is so wrong to be right, hardly anything makes sense, and nowadays I react upon instinct. How long can this be kept up? I don't know what this is, exactly, insanity or love of life, or a path going nowhere fast- something without reason, with no voice, no pinpoint direction. "You always have a plan, always," he once told me. This time, I don't, truley.