days...
Everyday, I have a secret romance. I leave my house, tearing myself away from the one man who delights my soul, strap myself into my own private capsule and wander away to a world where I am no longer a plain girl in a plain world. I am, rather, something extraordinary.
Yesterday, I was a predator. I wandered the streets, beautiful and dangerous. Wondering who would espy me with profound underestimations to their own peril. The magic of my predatory mind is always easily undone when I meet eyes with the prey. Without provocation, nor hesitation, I find myself smiling fondly with the unconscious hope that I have somehow improved the moment of that person and the next and the next, until I am shaken from my melancholy experience - usually involved in shopping - and I am remembering how happy I am to be alive and how much my satisfaction comes from bringing pleasure to the world.
Today, I was a racecar driver. Speeding along passing every car I could. I was the pack’s leader and no one could come near. Well, until I noticed that the car in the next lane had been signaling for quite some time to change into the lane I held and the line of cars up ahead was packed so tightly that it was impossible for anyone to merge into it. I relinquished my lead, joining with all of the other stopped cars save for leaving a bunch of space in front of me. If we would all let cars merge more easily, you know, we probably wouldn’t stop.
Tomorrow, I think I’ll be something new.
Or maybe I’ll just be plain old me in my plain old world trying to figure out how to make myself feel better.