How far do I have to go until I get there? Out beyond the horizon where everything gets blurry and the road is covered over with a swirling layer of mirage. I'm feeling a little crazy, a little theatrical, but when did that ever hurt anyone? I'm such a kid I talk about swinging and snow cones, and yes, that may be a bit silly but it keeps me young at heart. I enjoy the feeling of the ice melting in my mouth and the sun on my face bathing my legs with its warmth. I love the sweet breath of spring, melting out all traces of winter, leaving the ground covered with muddy delight. Ah, how much i yearn to write and change things. It hurts me, deep deep inside to the point where I just feel like my dreams could swallow me whole.
Sigh.
:)