I noticed today that my inner child has curled up away from the world, my playfulness guarded with wary somber, interactions clothed in cautious mistrust, my sexuality hidden beneath plated armor. In my everyday life I have closed a part of me away dousing my usual vibrancy, cheeky wit and natural smile. Is this the result of the ending of my 2013? Or a general malaise born of frustration in my nine to five that houses, feeds and clothes but does nothing for my creative desires? I hold deep sadness in my heart an unsounded loss that I quail at, longing for something on the tip of my tongue but unable to give voice or articulacy. It rumbles disconsolately and now, as I take pause, forms shape; mortality sensed, regret pours in, glimpsed half thoughts ignored unite creating a cohesive image. I feel my age, I see life’s potential ending and know I have regret. I want greater meaning and honesty, I want a life of my own. It is time to shake my tresses free of the mundane and let my soul stretch and bathe in imaginations light.
I will start, as I always do when serious about something, with a list.
Words by errant satiety image from deviantart