Disjointed

It's like awakening from your dreams. Except things aren't the same as they were when you went to bed. It's like awakening from your dreams, into a different world. It's like awakening for the first time.

This world was built for giants, not squirrels. But life makes squirrels of us all.

So busy gathering twigs to build the shelters for old age, the summer of youth passes away. Unnoticed and unacknowledged. All that I could, or almost could be, lost in the pages of books never written, lost in the verses of songs never sung.How do you stop life, and start living? How do you break the bonds of love, and habit, and custom, and certainty, to become all you were meant to be? To give all you should, and taste all you can?

The lands have been discovered, the stars breached, the elements conquered. Where do I turn to for inspiration? For divine intervention? I wish I was a rock star. I wish I was a highlander. I wish I was the song of the ages, the eye of the prophet. I wish, I wish…

I wish I were alive.

This is no story. Nor yet a piece of poetry. This is a plea for help. This is a dark room, a strange bed. This is a mind struggling against itself. This is not me. This is not you. This is us.