Lightnings

Looks up at the sky, waits for a meteor shower or something that will break the constant stillness, sighs in defeat.

So, the night is still still. I don't mind the cold - it's just a reminder that the holidays are coming. Soon, too soon. The year's about to end and here I am: still hoping, struggling against pragmatism, that lightning will strike, or at least that I'll come across some excitement somehow.

I really don't want to be stuck in a hustle-and-bustle world. I need excitement. I need fire. Magic. The real kind. I want to be swept off my feet. I want to run. Run free. I don't know why that phrase came up, I just feel like I have to run. Run free.

I want to have a reason to laugh out loud. Or just laugh out loud for no reason at all. But I also want someone to join me in the laughter. I want my lightning to strike now. I need it to strike now.

But there's a little pull inside my head, still. What if there's really no excitement to look forward to? What if life really was supposed to be constant and monotonous? What if I'm really supposed to be contented with... this stillness? And my constant yearning for "magic" and "the great relief" will only catapult me into despair - since those things will never come, anyway?

Gah. But I don't want to think about the possibility of magic not ever happening in my life. I just want it to happen. I want it to come and find me. And when it does, I'll take it from there. For now, I'm just wanting for it to happen. That's all.