sometimes...

[wispfox]

... my head is quiet.

... everything makes sense.

... I can remember what it feels like to just _be_.

... I wish I had a hobby, _any_ hobby, which called to me strongly.

... I can feel the connections between every living thing. It's a bit overwhelming when that happens.

... trees speak to me, and I listen. They speak more quietly, and more patiently, than most humans do. And I often forget to listen. And they really like reminding me to be patient, because everything will change, soon enough. It always does.

... the world reminds me that, no matter what else is true, I _belong_ here. And that there may not be a goal to which I will be drawn. Sometimes, it's the looking that matters.

... I feel like I can talk to, and be understood by, small creatures with no words. Sometimes I understand them better than I can understand people.

... I understand who I am. And why.

... I wonder why it is that I grew up where I did, when I did, as who I did. Why I'm me, and not someone else. And who is this 'me' that I speak of?

... I am so full of emotions that I feel like they will all burst out of me. And I don't understand why no one else can feel them, with me. And I want to show them. Give them to them. Share them.

... there is so much beauty around me that it leaves me breathless. But no one else seems to see it. And that saddens me.

... I remember a long-ago conversation with the woman of blue and silver who comforted me so long ago, when I needed it so badly. And then I am at peace. That is a treasured memory, indeed.

... I remember promises that I made to myself, and have kept ever since. And how much those promises have changed my life.

... I remember how difficult it is for me to not keep a promise, even an implied one. And I remember that there must sometimes be a choice between a poorly made promise, and staying true to one's self. People change, circumstances change, the very idea behind a promise - especially an implied one - changes. Some promises cannot, and _should not_, survive that. But if you must break a promise, do so openly. If you can explain why, do so. Do not sneak around it, either in spirit or in terms of the letter of it. Hidden broken promises are worse than no promise at all.

... I feel like, if I just listen hard enough, I will know what it is that I need most at that moment. And sometimes, I do.

... I completely don't understand how it is that I have so often, and so easily, been paralyzed by fear. In those moments, it's completely foreign to me. In those moments, I am free. Nothing matters, but everything does.

... I remember. And I lose who I am, now, for a time. I remember curiosity. I remember joy. I remember being, simply being. I remember self as nothing more than emotion. And nothing less.

... I forget that this reality is limited by some really annoying physical laws, and is _not_ something completely mutable by what I want to be true. It's times like these that I cannot understand only having two forearms, when more would be useful. Or not being able to just leave the ground and fly. Or breathe under water. In times like these, the things that I cannot do, because of the limitations of this body, completely confuse me. In times like these, it's very difficult for me to get all the way back into my body, and make it work right. And I'm never entirely sure that I want to.

... I cannot tell if a dream was a dream, or reality.

... I want to understand. Everything. Even though I don't think my brain can hold everything, I still _want_ to.

... I want to _experience_ everything. Most of the time, my self-defense mechanisms get in my way before I actually _try_ some of the things I think I should be able to do. Not everything should be experienced.

... I don't understand why I am trapped in my own head. Why can't I be someone else for a little while, while still keeping a sense of myself, way in the back of my head? Why can't I offer other people a direct glimpse into myself? I know that separation is important. I know because I know how much I need shielding. But I also know that I can drop those shields. Why can't I drop the separations between my head and someone else's?

... I am me. And that is enough.