(no subject)
It was foggy this morning, and it wasn't too cold. The trees and grass were still green enough to match beautifully with the fog.
I'm too isolated. Whenever I think of myself in relation to the world, it's always very separate - the world inside my skin, and the world outside my skin. I want to be a part of the world, living in it, not with it. I want to be able to send my mind away, and let my body feel life until it throbs with emotion. I want my fingertips to hiss when they mistake a hot iron for a cool one, my ears to tingle after someone whispers into them, my heart to always beat a bit faster because the world excites me that much. I want to be comfortable with being loved.
What if I'm not meant for the world?
I'm too isolated. Whenever I think of myself in relation to the world, it's always very separate - the world inside my skin, and the world outside my skin. I want to be a part of the world, living in it, not with it. I want to be able to send my mind away, and let my body feel life until it throbs with emotion. I want my fingertips to hiss when they mistake a hot iron for a cool one, my ears to tingle after someone whispers into them, my heart to always beat a bit faster because the world excites me that much. I want to be comfortable with being loved.
What if I'm not meant for the world?