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There is some restlessness upon me; something wistful, a longing, a pulling at my bones and a storm of echoes in my head. There is a tension unbearable in me and I cannot find its roots. I do not know what would quench this feeling, and it's been long since it's been on me so strongly.

I want to roam the spring forest beneath the full moon that hangs outside in the sky. I want to dress in my leathers and stalk the shadows with heart-friends who still have that fragment of Wild in them, that feral essence that hums to the invisible tides of existence. Some of them I have lost with time, some I have still in my present, and some I have not yet met. I want to laugh and scream and cry and dance; I want to hold perfectly still and breathe in the night.

I feel caged by this city and caged by the boundaries I have placed on myself, on my life, on the construction of my dreams. I feel the need to shake them off and go running into the unknown. I feel the need to embrace the darkness and fill myself to the brim with moonlight and starlight and drink it til I drown.

Yet this feeling, this torturous and nebulous feeling of being caught betwixt and between worlds and selves and ways of being, between having and not having whatever it is that would quench this terrible thirst - I have to wonder if this isn't the feeling of being truly alive. All moments touch.


keyake: (Default)

January 2017

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