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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1175501
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Personal · #1175501
Sometimes, I'm a mystery to myself
The world is so beautiful. Everything is so alive and so full of mystery and excitement. I am captivated by how everything is so green, so blue, so pink, so yellow...like everything is in excess but that's not a bad thing.

Something is happening to me, something that I've waited my entire life for, but it seems that over the year I have forgotten what it is. I wake up in the mornings to the world talking around me, full of so much life, sharing a secret that I am no where close to comprehending and lay my head down each night to the soft, serene wind blowing gently through the trees and the bright stars above held in the loving blanket of the night sky twinkling down upon me with a mystery that I've never known.

At times, I feel the sudden urge to say something, the rather intuitive feeling that something must be said, but I don't know what to say or why. It seems sometimes that the very quiet can be unnerving and the very next instance relieving.

Nothing is ever enough. I can't do enough, I can't see enough, I can't say enough, I can't feel enough, I can't live enough... I lay down every night and have the strange feeling as if I forgot to do something, like I had left something unaccomplished or unfinished but I don't know what.

I wake up at night sometimes, breathless and excited, but there's no reason for me to be. I dream of wild and crazy things, some that I would never even imagine during the waking day hours.

I am constantly waiting for something, most of which I don't even know I am. My whole life has been spent waiting: waiting to begin school, waiting to become an teenager, waiting to enter high school, waiting to graduate, waiting to meet that special one that I will eventually marry, waiting to become a mother...and it seems to me that there is more to life that just that. There has to be. I feel as if there is this gaping chasm in my heart and in my soul and nothing can fill it. I am also beginning to realize that life as I know it is just a deluded dream of what I've have always believed is really out there for me to find. And there's the small part of my deep hidden intuition that knows that the day I will find myself is coming very, very soon.
© Copyright 2006 Lacy Lou (libralacy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1175501