Until I can wake up not tired, can lay in bed for hours, and read, know what I want to read instead of spending hours casting around for a book that I can really, really read.
Until I can forget to eat, I can go for a walk and not have to come back. I can find somewhere I like the look of and stay there. Until the day I can capture how beautiful things are, in words, in pictures, or music or anything. Anyway at all. Until I can remember things so I don't forget. Until I can recognise the things that are going to alter me, or what happens, until I can recognise what matters. Until I appreciate people for who they are, and not get so caught up.
Until I can open by door and find out someone has brought me a field of daffodils. And breathe
And not always be rushing around. I can study the things I want, I can go the places I want, I don't have to answer to people so much. Until the day I'm serenaded from my bedroom window, until I wear shoes made of glass.
Until I can travel, and not be scared to do things by myself. Until I have the strength of mind not to have to depend on everyone else so much. The strength of mind to not spend all my time searching and being continually disappointed. Until I can stop attempting to find perfection and force it on people. Until I can finally be satisfied. Until I can stop having to pretend all the time, or think about what I have to do next, how I have to act with certain people, which rules I have to follow this time. Until I can accept that I'm not everyone else.
Concentrate on the things that are beautiful, and forget about those ugly ones - if only for a little while. Or make them superfluous, unnecessary, or maybe even just a necessary evil, but one that I don't have to be mixed up in all the time. I can escape into what I want. Into those beautiful things. It's all too selfish isn't it?
-wordsworth-
Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: