To me it is the act of being overcome with an urge to throw yourself into the world and give it your best.
I miss that feeling. I haven't had it in so long, and I want it back. I want to see the beauty that I saw when I was a kid in every small thing again. I want to be able to sit on the grass, feel the sun on my face, smell the dandelions, and just enjoy my life again. It is things like this that inspire me. I feel like I'm on a different planet, in a different galaxy when I do.
It is as if I am in my own world and perfectly content to simply be.
Just to simply float along, in my own bubble of ecstacy, touched by nothing.
I want to be able to enter a room that has white walls, and rather than become depressed at the simplicity of it, I want to see it as a canvas. A canvas where I can throw my emotions at it and turn it into something beautiful. I feel as if I've become empty and have lost my worldliness.
I suppose I feel this way since I've turned into my own definition of average.
I've always wanted to be extraordinary. I was for a while, and I miss it. I used to not care, I used to bounce along in my own world. I used to see something I enjoyed, whipped out a piece of paper, and drew my version of my emotions.
I would hear a song, smile, and start to sing along, no matter where I was.
I was simply weird.
I was interesting.
I guess I'm just at one of those forks in the road that we call life.
Which to choose, the one that leads to a superficial world in my head, or the one where I devote myself to conformity?
I hope I will get lucky and another will appear.
