I miss this; that freedom that lasts longer than I ever imagine with every word I decide to put in here.
I miss the love and the crash of emotion on skin and on earth shaking beneath our feet. I reject the normal, I do not acquaint myself with it, I run away from it.
I miss the fire and shake in my voice as I anticipate the next breath and the next moment. Somehow all these things seem distant when I spend my days centered behind a desk reading other people’s words. Somehow I cannot seem to get back to the path I thought I was on. Everything seems boring repetitive and elusive.
It is that rock in my headphones and the vibe in my stroll that keeps ringing on somewhere beneath all my bland thoughts and mediocre days.
Perhaps it is a phase, perhaps this is growing up and being responsible for something beside my need for fun, excitement and thrill. Perhaps I am missing an undercover tone in this world of desks, computers, files and humans with designated positions.
I miss things that’s all. And I’m writing this right here and right now in order to admit it in hopes that I find the balance between what I must do and what I want to do; what I have and what I deserve. The balance between their world and mine must exist somewhere along these words and those thoughts. That’s when I run.