DanielSometimes she wondered if she was where she was supposed to be.And where he was. Whether he got what he want out of life. Whether he was where he belonged.She knew where she belonged, surrounded by fairytales and daydreams and strange, lively things that came out of her imagination.She wondered if he ignored that, if he saw what she'd seen; all these weird and wonderful things spreading themselves out for her fingers to touch and experience. It was fascinating, the way they'd flit in and out of her fingers, wrapping tiny little ropes made of stardust around her knuckles.She was bound to this feeling forever and she knew it. She loved it. She relished in it, curled up next to it while she slept. It'd dance in her dreams, pulling blanket upon blanket of forests and animals and magic across her mind's eye. She observed every single one.Even through the half-hooded eyes of a night slept well, she stared out the window but what she saw wasn't reality; it was the dreams, waiting for her
A Great Day For FreedomI've had this feeling for a while now.When everything would erupt at a touch. I'd see a flame before me, burning quietly, silently, flickering a little and then righting itself again.And I'd wonder what I was looking at, if it was real or not. I remember I stared at it as it stared back at me with its great eyes full of clarity, certainty. I felt a shudder through my soul like water was being poured over me. It vapourised and flew off into the air like a thousand tiny birds on the gust of letting go. Out of reach.If these eyes would open wide enough, maybe then I'd be able to recognise it...to learn from it. It won't let me touch it.That day hasn't approached yet. And who can explain this to me? Who understands sensations well enough, to know how they feel against your heart as they nestle next to it and sleep, sleep to the heart's pulsing?It's like a lullaby for them.I think...I think it might be called freedom. I'm pretty sure.