Maybe Even Tomorrow

I wish I could sail through the cotton candy clouds. To faraway places I would take myself. Into the deep scarlet and soft orange hues of the fading sunset. To where God put the clouds in disarray, tapering into wisps without any cares in the world.

My heart longs to feel the exotic burst of energy that comes only with adventure and traveling the world. If only I could bound into the sea green shadows of the forested hills. Only then could I feel fresh and new; able to grasp fully the size of the world and it’s problems.

If only I could be her, traveling with pungent levels of innocence. If only the world and it’s adventures were as easy thought through as that. I just want to go. Not to the cold air, but to the warm embracing winter sun. To the peacefully content silhouette outside of my window. I want to travel and forget about everything. I want to go places, see things that I’ve never seen before rather than stay inside all of my life. But I want it to be fun. If it’s not fun, what’s the point of going?

I want to go to the Northern Islands. I want to be there, to absorb all of it into my soul, to impress it’s mark upon my chest, and to integrate myself with it’s flame and passion. Why not now? I’m not ready. That’s why. But I will someday. Maybe even tomorrow.

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