I long to be wild and free right now, to taste the wonder of new-discovered things-- waking up, like Snow White, in youth, everything a marvel, life glowing.
Is it possible that we become less alive as time goes on? It seems my vision is darkening. With every one I lose, I feel that part of me is dead, too. I feel quiet and subdued.
I want to taste that cup of happiness forever-- and I must find a way. But it is hard to be a believer, because no one around me believes. Everyone seems dead and dull.
Today our English presenter was so alive somehow. I felt very ugly and insignificant next to her (that doesn't happen to me very often, either)-- but I wanted to learn from Kate Winslet's clone. Actually, I wanted to fly to England, anywhere-- I understand "The Passenger" a little better now except-- I do not mean to say hurtful things. I could not give up the ones I love. It is only that I spend so much time with people I don't like, doing boring stuff. I want to be free.
I want that taste of life. Sitting on playground bars beneath a twilight sky, tasting rapidly chilling wind and knowing soon it will be Halloween and then-- Christmas! Anticipation, excitement-- they are near-strangers to me now. I catch a ghost of it sometimes when I am shopping. I remember all those times shopping with my mom, and picking up a candle or piece of jewelry or color of makeup that reminded me of one of my Idols, or a place with which I was obsessed, or one of my stories, and I bought it with the passion that it would bring that magic into my life. It did, when I believed!
Now, how different it is when I shop. I'm harried. I can't find the magic anymore. It's a dim memory in my mind. I can only remember my mother's encouragement, vaguely.
Will it work, I ask myself, if I say those things to myself, as she said to me? I don't know. I haven't tried. I have to try. I want the magic. If I have it, I will really be free again.