The need for escape feels overwhelming. This burning desire to transcend the confines of my physical being and mental capacity pervades every thought I have as I sit here and mindlessly type these numbers for this job that doesn't matter in a building that does nothing more than give the wrong people money and make them feel important. This is not my world. Not the one I claim to be my own. The one where I would dearly love to lay my head would be a much more open one--expanisve. it would strentch for days with infinite sky. Free of limitation and necessity. In such a place one could exist in peace and pursue the thoughts and activites that they knew were meant for them, the things they felt in their inner-being. It would certainly not be what someone else thought one was capable of, putting a cap on your mobility and creativity. I feel it's this way in the which the world grinds along that makes people dead inside, to be brow beaten by someone else's expectations, void of ideas to dream for themselves, to reach into the infinite possibilities waiting for anyone with enough desire and grit.
Perhaps it's the coffee and that makes my mind work overtime, racing with a million thoughts a minute, unable to control my words or my thoughts, let alone concentrate on this menial task before me. This environment can be stifiling and depressing at times, but one must just say, "This is not me. When I am elsewhere, they will still be here." A while ago the inner adventurer, dreamer was fully unlocked by the right mind and heart, and it's impossible to go back to accepting what life gives with only a faint hope of happiness once one has tasted the possibilities and lived life lean and wild, ready for anything this world threw at you, whether you knew you were ready for it or not.
If sheer imagination and mental power alone could shake the foundations of this earth, I feel as if they would right now, under the weight of racing fragments of fury and thought that bounce inside my skull. I see myself not as what greets me in the mirror, but in ideal, thoughts, and feelings--an existence of intesity riding the crest of large and lethal golden wave. Sometimes I'm at the top with a beautiful ocean view, wind in my hair and face, smiling and letting the experience wash over me, and other times I have been cast ashore by this wave, clammering in the sandy shore, violently swimming back out towards the waves, hoping to catch it again, not knowing how long I must paddle until I find it again. This is the time when arms tire and the mind weakens, but if I just remain fixed on those times when I was madly dancing atop the wave, strength returns to my arms and new determination fills the mind. It feels as if the next chance to catch the tide is fast approacing whether I am prepared or not. Is that it just a few miles out, or is that my mind playing tricks on me? Only time will reveal the truth and in the meantime I must continue on as if it is just a few knots away.
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