I Am Transported.

 

I sit here alone, immersed in nothing but my own thoughts.  Whenever this happens, I can't help but want things.  Want a better house.  Want to be smaller.  Want more time.  Want less time.  Want more friends.  Want the friends I have to want me.  Want to go back.

I can see it just barely... the very edges of my memory more like clouds than vision.  I am happy.  The only thing that matters to me is how high I can jump on the trampoline compared to my peers and counting down the days until Christmas.  I was blissfully unaware of all the things in my life which I'd want to delete.  Cut, bend, twist... that's fine.  It's never going to work, anyways.

I want to go back to the days of hyper-activity.  Where I annoyed the marshmallows out of all who knew the real me, and yet I remained completely and totally invisible to every other soul of the world.  The beauty of it was... I didn't care.  I pranced around throughout my business and my business alone, unaware that there was anything better out there for me.  There was only one who cared.  One who I could laugh with and talk and eat handful upon handful of candy.

But I left her.

I left her for a new world.  This world was much darker... it felt totally isolated, yet there were oceans of people all around.  One held a flashlight.  It was up to her where she pointed it to go, and I followed by her side like my life depended on it.  Part of me thinks that it did.  Or, rather, my death depended on it.  And there is no life without death.  It was a world of independence and anger and spite... and so much excitement that I just couldn't bring myself to leave.  After many times of taking her flashlight and playing with it, clicking the button over and over, shining it in others' eyes, she took me on a long scavenger hunt to find my own.  Luckily.... I did.  Now it's just a matter of figuring out the right places to point it.

Since then, I have managed to tangle myself up in a rainforest.  It's full of vibrant, interesting creatures.  But all of them seem to be fully consumed in their own affairs. Perhaps I look funny to them, because there are so many which just spend their time watching me.  I can tell they're waiting for the day that I reach out my hand to try and touch them.  Maybe it'll happen.  For now, I'm just trying to figure out why I can't manage to get out and move on to the next place in my travels.  I can't tell if the stems winding themselves around my ankles are flowers or thorns.  All I know is, the girl with the flashlight is scampering on without me, and even if I do get it together, I'm probably going to end up having to rely on my own light.