What If.









Every breath drawn

Every sigh released

Every moment wasted

Every opportunity seized

Every tear shed

Every laugh that put the melancholy to rest

Every crack that broke your heart

And the fire that filled it back in

All led you to the start

So you'd know the pleasure of beginning again.

On Wanderlust.

(and what it means to me)



I have an angst about me that's withstood the test of adolescence...

An air of mystery that's just as much a part of me as my skin and teeth

An overwhelming urge to create and destroy and create again

                                  Because the destruction of something is a creation of its own

I have a ravenous desire to experience things which I've not tread with before

I hate knowing

Knowing is a conquest that breeds complacency

It's the tainted remnants of what was once intoxicatingly foreign


So I keep moving

Drifting further into the unchartered and enigmatic depths of all that's been and all that is to come

To things I perceive only when my lids are closed and I've put my brain to sleep

Drifting until the sublime monster inside of me is unleashed and free to wander

Today is one of the first beautiful days of Spring and I want to be outside so badly that my stomach hurts. But alas, I'm here, at work, without remedy to my present situation; so I'll sit here and blog poetically about it.






Woe is me.