Paper Wings

I sometimes feel very 2 dimensional. flat. plain. average. I dream of a life so large that it exceeds every possible perimeter that the world can throw around me and said explosive existence. Sometimes in the midst of that dream I realize that I am in fact more stuck than expansive energy and my heart sinks...until my romantic mind begins whirring again with those too-big thoughts. I've adopted that phrase, by the way, from Kerouac (read him).

So here I am - feeling stuck. Feeling small and flat and wanting. Wanting to move and shake and save the world and save myself...from whatever it is that makes me feel pinned. Today, perhaps it is my mother and that latest bought of guiltful puppeteering of purse strings and toxic parenting. Perhaps it's that I let her. Perhaps it's the apathy that still taints my ambition to do (anything). Maybe it's the monotony of life, and I'm tired. I'd like to leave for a bit...for a bit...I'd like to get in my car and drive to Anywhere But Here.

Welcome to Anywhere But Here! the sign would read.

I saw a film and that made me want to move, to sell it all, everything, and live on simplicity and good deeds. I'd like to save the world. I read a book, some blogs, I've listened to the moving plans, for downsizing the stuff. The stuff is so weighty, isn't it? And the grass is always greener. I lay beneath the stars as they fell across the midnight plane. I made a wish, but I can't repeat it. I heard a song and wanted to love like that again. It made me feel inspired to give my heart away...to someone true and good who also loves without regard. I want to love and be loved in capacities larger than reason would rightfully allow, and never ever hurt (again). And I'm homesick, for something I've never seen. I'm so sick for home...rotten sick for a state of being that I've known only in daydreams.

So here I am - feeling stuck. Feeling 2D and paper thin. Feeling weighed down with the crap of life and tethered to dead weight. But it isn't all so desperate. No, there's plenty of potential, don't get me wrong. There's plenty that I'm thankful for and makes me smile. It's just...it's just that I'm restless, and plagued a little by the burn of wanderlust. And the search for Home is a little more than I can mentally entertain right now. And I want to not be scared of love, or moved to silence maternal phone calls.