Also.
Imagining life the way it could and will be. Imagining all that I can create. Imagining life, new life, created and incubated in my body, coming free, being human, being a part of me and yet completely autonomous. Imagining stories, penned, typed, of ancestors, and old, crumbling mansions, and all that has brought me here. Imagining songs yet to be sung, dances yet to be danced. Imagining the light, not at the end of the tunnel, but that creeps through the cracks all throughout the tunnel that is this life. Playing games and kissing strangers and climbing pyramids at the "ruins" of ancient civilizations. Saying things and writing words and acting in ways that change the course of the way things are, leaving indelible marks. Watching as others act to change people and minds and hearts. Loving everything. Loving every last thing, every last beautiful and ugly part of myself and of this complicated, complicated world.
yes.
ReplyDeleteI second that.
ReplyDelete