Apple cherries.

My life is a tangle of confusion. One minute I think I'm flying, the next I think I'm drowning. When I'm surrounded by many, I still feel alone. I am doused in my own thoughts, which overpower me. Like vines, the more I fight them the tighter they get , around my mind, overwhelming me with the world. I can see, but only in a limited sense. I am very nearsighted. Mentally and phyisically. I cannot see far ahead. The path ahead is fuzzy. There is a mist, and it bellows my name, envelopes my senses, and releases me into chaos, disguised as composure and order. I am following a map, but the roads have no names, and there is no north, east, south or west. It is blank and I have a pen. I am drawing my own path, but my hands are shaky, and the roads don't always go in the direction I intend to draw them towards. I am traveling across a golden prairie, a strawberry coloured sunset glows in the air, dispersing colors through clouds as translucent drops of water float down to the ground. Liquid gemstones reflecting a convex image of the world. Everything appears smaller and brighter. This is the utopia in my mind, full of fall coloured trees. The rest of the world is coloured like spring: Pastels, bright blue skies, clouds so puffy and white, with flashing silver linings. I remember the world looked like this, in the eyes of a child. In the eyes of this child. The world was so different to me. And only now when the sweet smell of foliage enters my lungs, can I see the world from this view. This view so broad and clear. As if at the top of a canyon, looking down on an entire world. I'm floating and I don't know where I'm going. The soft breeze is drifting me away, to mossy havens, where its soft and pine needles fragrance the air, gently. I need to get away to a place like this. Where I can only hear the voices of nature. No distracting sounds to lead my mind astray. At one point in time, the world seemed to make sense to me. Now its just a jigsaw puzzle, and I have misplaced a few pieces. My mind is always on the run. I need to lie down, and rest for a minute.

I love writing. I love putting words together. They don't need to be understandable. They just need to project imagery. Imagery of what I am seeing. I cannot see the world for what it is. I imagine it from my own perspective. And my perspective is so different from reality. I think I like it better that way...