Friday, May 8, 2015

Lost in thought

If I would follow my own heart it would be as if chasing a balloon in flight. Clinging to a thin string with clutched fists while being smacked on the head by a inflated rubber ball. I see big things in store for me, but I can't find the air to take me there.

Off in the distance is a skyline so beautiful and right now, a fairy tale only in my head. I'm in my thirties and still chasing fairy tales and soap opera plots, I should write for daytime television since my imagination is so vivid and Emmy worthy.

Who in their right mind is married for seven years and still hopes for some romantic diversion to take place? Who else thinks divorce is the answer?

It is tough to be a sensitive writer with all these emotions inhaled and exhaled. I know the shakiness that I stand on, not sure how to calm the anger of the ground wanting to take me down.

Even if a dalliance occurred or I moved to a big city, it wouldn't stop the balloon from shaking violently and longing for the skies. The balloon is me as of late. Shuffling and bopping within the wind's movements. It is erratic and longing to be free.

Yet the funny thing, when the passionate breeze dies down, It descends back to earth, where my brain meets it. I'm just not that impetuous even though I fantasize about different outcomes. I miss excitement and fireworks.

The crazy thing is a horoscope once said I love the thrill of the chase. It is so true! I have been brain washed by soap operas and love ballads. I long for fancy affairs and glitzy social events. I love the romance of New York City. The one pined for magically shows up and kisses you on light colored lips. The softness of wet mouths touching and falling deep into the moment.

This is reality, complication and uncertainty everyday. I despise those who are happy all the time because I don't think I ever experience that. Once, I want unrestricted happiness. It seems so silly, like a kid chasing after loose balloon on a windy day,