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Rated: E · Prose · Personal · #2288472
I have a strong urge to move to Iceland. Forget I have a life here.
         What is it like to feel free?
         I long for the way it feels. Untethering my soul.
         The world I have isn't bad, isn't unfair. I have a lot to be grateful for. But it'll never be what I want.
         Such longing.
         For trees. For mountains. For roots. For home.
         And no, not the place I live and raise a family. The place where my spirit connects with my surroundings.
         I cry dreaming of that place.
         The wholeness of just standing, my bare feet in the cool moss.
         I am alone.
         I am bound to the earth.
         I want to feel that flow.
         I want to scream that release to the stony peaks above me. To the waterfalls and thick trees below me.
         The stars I would watch, laying on a littered ground of leaves and pine needles.
         That breath that no one is around to hear. My breath.
         My soul.
         Someone just take me home.
         So I can cry.
         So I can belong.
         So I can live. Actually live.
         This is the freedom I crave.
         I ache for, I hate myself for.
         That outstretched hand and a fleeting grasp at something so far.
         ....so far out of reach.
         I guess I'll just have to close my eyes,
         For extended periods of time.
                             Just disappear....

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