Do your thing

My heart aches for the unknown, it yearns for the very depths of adventure. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify to this feeling. Happy. Just in my shorts, barefooted, wild-haired, in the red fire dark, singing, dancing, jumping, running — that’s the way to live. All alone and free in the soft sands of the beach by the sigh of the sea out there, with warm stars reflecting on the water. Finding fellow free spirits in the trees and the ocean floor with your sticky fingers and dirty toes, your sun coloured skin holding together the soul that searches for belonging and understanding until she finds home.

I want to fish as deep down as possible into my own subconscious in the belief that once that far down, everyone will understand because they are the same that far down.

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