Sunday 13 March 2016

Some Days.

Some days, once in a while, I feel great.
Maybe because the weather is just right. A little bit of a chill. A little cloudy with just the right amount of sunlight.
Maybe because it's one of those elusive good-hair days.
Maybe because I slept as much as I wanted to.
The sky is a cool blue-white.
The cherry blossoms will be here soon.

Sitting outside with a cup of tea. It's quiet now because everyone has gone home for spring break. It's me and the breeze and tea and silence. The occasional squirrel on the tree.

For a long time, I've forgotten who I was. Lost everything I used to be. Forgotten that I used to love to spin moments into words, words into pictures, pictures into stories. The writer, the artist, the musician, the scientist. All faded away. Some days I was a wisp of smoke, barely existing.

But here I am, and today I'm great. I know I'm more than just a shell. And I want the world to see that too. I don't need to hide, not today. Because through my words, if nothing else, I am powerful. I exist.

It will take a while to find myself again, I know. But that's okay because I have hope that I'm getting there. The fact that I'm writing at all is evidence of that. As of now I need to figure out how to make the most of a good-hair day.