Inner dialogue; I’ve never fully understood what I wanted to be, I always knew my dreams were too big or just never going to happen. I don’t understand why some people don’t dream, like this twinkle that everybody has in their eye raids away with reality and the concept of living in that reality. Well that isn’t my reality, this is.
I usually follow ghosts from my last around for weeks, like lost luggage. Then alter my perception, everything raids I change and declare war with everyone I know. I feel kind of bad for that guy in the burger place, he didn’t deserve what I had to say about their milkshakes. Maybe I’m too big for them. Maybe where on different planes on this small world. I found people that just get it and then dive into their own recklessness, abandoning the free will they once promised to never give up. But they all do, why don’t i?
It’s hard to share that creative side inside me with people, she is sensitive, soft, fearless, has no reason not to scream or shout at the top of her lung because every dream she dreams she burns it into dust hauling everything that she just began and sometimes she keeps them dreams in a little jar, never afraid to remind herself of the person that she is. She knows who that is. With everything so hush hush, the foolish thing to do is to be quite. Right in that moment, she inhales and puff ‘smoke’.