I forget that I am the happiest I have been in a year.
I get so lost in the joy that my old home brings me- my family, my friends, my childhood. I enjoy every experience like a scene from a movie- I can play it over and over.
In it, I'm a ghost.
A ghost floating above my very own head, watching my actions and knowing what is coming at the same time.
God-like, but no comparison otherwise.
I see myself smile.
I see myself laugh.
My ghost does the same- and I know it's real.
With every step, my ghost is there, while my earthly body is trapped in Utopia. My ears are plugged with headphones blarring 2A.M. by Three More Shallows. Hands in pocket, stepping to the beat, lost in the sound.
Between the long stretches of clean pavement I walk, there are those nasty, weed-filled cracks. I'll trip here and there; I might even take a fall. But I'll never stop learning from them.
One major promise has been filled this past month- I respect myself again. I was put to a test twice, and both times I succeed with flying colors; and oh, how bright they were. Nothing can make me go back to feeling the way I once did. I'm clinging to my happiness like a baby blanket that I will never let go.
Pure happiness does not come from another persons good soul, but the reborn soul of your own.
=)
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