Skip to main content

Wild and free

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.

Popular posts from this blog

Where does it lie

I look out onto the yellow and brown vegetation beneath my window, at the castle-like buildings far away and wonder where do I lie in all of this? There was a time when I was unfettered. This was a time before I entered the working world, before I was independent. My heart was free as a bird when I was in college. I did not know what happiness I experienced in my creativity because I had never known different. In other aspects of my life I knew pain but my stories, sprung up lately from a gothic mist into an immersing Pre-Raphaelite painting, were a richness and the most beautiful thing I had ever known. That the most beautiful thing I knew to exist happened inside of me made me very happy, even though I didn't know it. Now I know the sun is setting, even though I can't see it, because the bank of brown, twisted trees and shrubs is lit gold, like a reflection from a golden chalice. Slowly, slowly it will fade until everything is a homogenous, uncertain gray. This is the nightma...
more &

Cassandra stood poised at her vanity mirror. Her long hair, which spilled past her waist, was twisted in one hand, and in the other was a pair of jeweled scissors.

As she lifted the scissors to cut, a larger hand wrapped around hers. Cassandra withdrew with a cry. "Kell! I didn't see you come in." He took the scissors away. "I take it you got the job." "I did," she said crisply. "Return my scissors to me." "Not if you intend to cut off your hair. What do you mean by this nonsense?" "I can't have long hair in the laboratory. It might catch fire or something." "Look there." He guided her to the window. Below them lay the scattered remains of a centuries-old city park. The benches were near invisible due to growth, while the pond had extended far beyond its original boundaries. Ducks floated serenely on its surface. "We played as children. Do you remember how you prized your hair?" Cassandra laughed a little drily. "Of course. I insisted all my powers as princess lay in my hair. I was haughty. unworthy of the friendship of you and your sister." ...
more &

Snow White and the Prince

I dreamed in darkness, cold and alone. Phantasms shifted around me, frightening me, but I was powerless to escape them or even move, as I was sealed in a casket. I thought of the Queen, my Stepmother, and tears dripped from my eyes as I considered the quasi-poignant moments we had once shared, when we might have been considered to be close, when the Queen had nearly been a mother to me, and the face of love had shone radiantly upon me, before eclipsed again by the storms of Venus. I thought of the huntsman, stung to consider that my only friend had been poised to betray me, to kill me, and again in my mind I felt the horror of his shadow, of waiting while he came behind me, knowing there was no escape for me from a death he would inflict. My heart lifted as images of the Prince entered my mind, his grace atop a white-maned horse, always out of my reach, just beyond the words I longed to speak. If only there had been more time for us to fall in love. He might have saved me from those...
more &