i get stuck thinking there are microscopic pieces of me in places i haven’t been, and in things i don’t have. like there are particles of me i’m looking for, in the form of dust floating aimlessly ahead of me somewhere.

the sparks i feel trick me into thinking i need something tangible to be happier.-

i’m not going to find myself in scenes meant for post cards or movies. i’m not going to find happiness in the greenery and the warm air. happiness comes from something imponderable. it comes from within the canals of my mind that i often leave untouched.- connecting myself with knowledge of the ability to control my own mind and making my own decisions about how i can feel and what i can find out of life, authorizes me to not only see particles of myself floating right in front of me but entire fragments everywhere i step.

i can finally begin to catch a glimpse of the pure allurement that those exact diverse places and new things have to offer me that i would’ve been blind to trying to search for elements of me that were never there to begin with.- i can enter on an epic vicissitude

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