Looking . . .
Nov. 6th, 2002 06:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lantairvleaI look forward, and in looking forward, I look back. I am ahead now, ten, twenty years. I'm afraid, I fear, that when I look back I will see myself as I am and that I would not have changed. I will still be someone who, to others, has accomplished much, but feels as if they never tried, never put forth the REAL effort in the things that others see as having to "matter."
I have worked, I have worked hard, but those feelings of accomplishment haven't come very often, more seldom than some may thing. I want to be able to feel truely accomplished, like when I finish a piece of art to my satisfaction. I want to do something and feel like I've accomplished something, not just say "well, that's over with now, what's next to keep me occupied?"
I don't want to be "kept occupied." I want to EXPERIENCE, I want to LEARN, I want to Taste, touch, and feel. I want to SEE! Then, it feels strangely appropriate that I type up something I wrote over a month ago:
Mmm, sensation. The gentle TOUCH, a brush, feather-light. Prickling, tickling feelings running, flowing through the rivuletes of being. SMELL, scent, it is pulled in, picking at a piece, a part. Soothing, fleeting, sweet smell. Color, light, dark, shape, form, now SIGHT approaches within a haze. Fuzzy, it becomes clear, clearer, sharp, defined lines, curves. So much information, it produces noise. SOUND bursts forth, crashing, banging, vibrating the air and being, Sweet, again, familiar, yet worlds apart. It has texture, smell with textures, TASTE.
The being organizes itself, forming, compiling, moving slowly to its ultimate destination, ultimate goal. Suddenly, just as quickly as the sensations began I WAS. The seventh sence of the body, of the BEING. The sense of SELF, paling the others by far so that they are nearly forgotten, afterthoughts of the being.
Off to Government *flies away.*
I have worked, I have worked hard, but those feelings of accomplishment haven't come very often, more seldom than some may thing. I want to be able to feel truely accomplished, like when I finish a piece of art to my satisfaction. I want to do something and feel like I've accomplished something, not just say "well, that's over with now, what's next to keep me occupied?"
I don't want to be "kept occupied." I want to EXPERIENCE, I want to LEARN, I want to Taste, touch, and feel. I want to SEE! Then, it feels strangely appropriate that I type up something I wrote over a month ago:
Mmm, sensation. The gentle TOUCH, a brush, feather-light. Prickling, tickling feelings running, flowing through the rivuletes of being. SMELL, scent, it is pulled in, picking at a piece, a part. Soothing, fleeting, sweet smell. Color, light, dark, shape, form, now SIGHT approaches within a haze. Fuzzy, it becomes clear, clearer, sharp, defined lines, curves. So much information, it produces noise. SOUND bursts forth, crashing, banging, vibrating the air and being, Sweet, again, familiar, yet worlds apart. It has texture, smell with textures, TASTE.
The being organizes itself, forming, compiling, moving slowly to its ultimate destination, ultimate goal. Suddenly, just as quickly as the sensations began I WAS. The seventh sence of the body, of the BEING. The sense of SELF, paling the others by far so that they are nearly forgotten, afterthoughts of the being.
Off to Government *flies away.*
