Hugs

I’m slapping my hands hard, hard, tremendously hard, against the floor. I’m forcing the beat through my hands and into the floor. When you feel alive, you do strange things.

I’ve kissed my reflection in the mirror. Does this make me narcissistic? Yes. Yes I suppose it does.

I fill my mouth, throat, and cheeks with water as full as possible. It hurts very much to swallow, but I do it again anyway.

I dream about falling off sky scrappers. Terrifying. I don’t know if I can bungee jump.

That person has magic inside them. They feel good about themself. They are free. They have found something many have not.

I can pick a favorite color of the day. A permanent favorite color is too much commitment. Why not enjoy colors as they come?

I don’t feel sad when my dog runs away. She’s freer. She always returns, exhausted and happy. I don’t want to control her life.

Money controls me too much.

I will not be embarrassed for my actions and thoughts. This is a work in progress.

Sex is good, love is better, beauty is everywhere, time is precious, I want a hug.