Its be a long time. I shouldn’t have left you. Without a dope beat to step to.

Lately things have gotten better.

Maybe.

Yes. Indeed.

I feel like somewhere over the last 3 years I had sort of lost who I was. Who I am. But I sense myself coming back. And its great. I missed me.

I felt like I was speeding down a super highway rapidly morphing into this complete stranger who I couldn’t recognize and secretly loathed all the while unable to stop this maddening anxiety ridden change. My hands were tied my mouth was gagged and my feet were chained. Had I been kidnap. Taken hostage. Without ransom even. Against my will. I hated it.

“It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction--every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and excitement at about a million miles an hour”

And slowly the bell jar is being lifted.

I can feel the cool air rushing in. It is completely exhilarating. I haven’t felt this unbelievably happy, yes happy, in a very long time. It’s so basic. How did I miss it?

I catch myself smiling at random. I’ve taking up spontaneous winking again, not in a creepy old moustache man way, but more in a ‘hey cutie, you’re swell’ kind of way. Are you picking up what I’m laying down?

I’ve been throwing myself into the deep end of music again. I’m myspacing like no ones business and drowning in incredible new-to-me finds. Little fire works are going off in my ear drums and gleeful little people are hoping up and down on my brain frantically waving teeny tiny flags that read ‘thank-you’, ‘finally’, ‘champ’. They love me. I’m their hero. The cape crusader of cool.

I find myself getting overwhelmingly giddy over the slightest of things. I find EVRYTHING hilarious and laugh-way-out-loud funny. It’s out of hand! It’s amazing! My cheeks are starting to get sore from all the grinning. Its ear to ear I tell you! Also, so many exclamation marks and so necessary! If you’re not into it, my apologies, but life is grand and deserves them as much as it deserves happy face emoticons. Yes, I said it, I went there. And I’d do it again.

Maybe next week this whole fresh take on life will loss its luster and I’ll regress to that stranger girl again, but until then I’m going to surf this wave of sunshine as long as I can. Maybe its all this vitamin D I’ve been drinking, but whatever the cause, the effects are splendid.

Ride on.

second star to the right and straight on til morning...

Having been born with a devastating and seemingly incurable case of peter pan syndrome I have still, as of date had the inability to grow up, in any way, shape or form. Constantly and continually immature I regrettably require relentless and persistently unwavering adult supervision. I am a tragic forever child.

I am overly excitable and unpredictable, from losing my mind over a song to losing my heart to a complete stranger to losing my wallet in an instant. I fall in love at the drop of a hatch, to people and spaces and places and inanimate objects. I still think a kiss is as innocent and enchanting as a thimble and that a happy thought can make you feel light as air as though you’re flying, and twirling and spinning through clouds and stars and dreams. I am simultaneously filled with glee and fear over anything new, my heart races with amalgamation of shear excitement and terror. It is unstoppable.

But it must stop. But must it stop?

Can one really live their life like this? Is it possible to survive in a world that does not typically tolerate this stunted life style? Perhaps I’m over analyzing and magnifying the situation but it has been making me think, and think that I am, about the path one takes to make the leap to adultville. Has my brain map been charted without such a route? Does one discover the path to rules, regulations and responsibilities through some overwhelming life development and change or am I merely a lazy and lackadaisical late bloomer. Perchance my peers simply appear to be grown up and it’s all a facade and if this is the case I’d really appreciate some honestly. Do you really have it all fingered out; and if so what kind of Houdini Wicca witch craft Harry Potter pixie dust magic did you use to transport your goofy youth self to a state of nine to five pay your bills on time. I’d like to believe that I can continue to live my life in this spontaneous whimsical childlike way, but I most certainly have my doubts.

I suppose to could start constructing self imposed adult guidelines to my every day life; a sort of bizzaro version of the born again WWJD. My new motto could alas be WWAAD? But, what would an adult do? I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Could I build four walls of self imposed adult imprisonment? I suppose I could start by eliminating all Technicolor crazy from my life; wardrobe, people and surroundings and incase myself in a land of muted colours of beige, eggshell and taupe. But the thought of doing this mere act alone makes my heart sad and brain panic. I wouldn’t last a day. I would go mad.

Than again...

Maybe we do not all have to take that leap to the land of the mature and maybe oddly enough I’m too old to grow up. I could be forever be stuck in my hopscotch, lollipop and pig tail ways, with no escape in sight, and that might be alright. I know I love games and jokes and laughing, though possibly too loud, more than I could ever enjoy having a well organized closet or dare I say filing cabinet. I could care less how clean my room is and if I still get my kicks from outrageous nothings. I thrive off getting hyperventilatingly excited over the presumably most mundane of things. And so what if this is deemed immature and contemptibly and shamefully juvenile by the masses. Do I care? Should I care?

Maybe I am one of the few who will never find there way out of Neverland, and maybe, just maybe that’s okay. I hope...

two thousand tentacle

The year of the octopus. The year that will not suck.