I had insatiable passion.
I was writer, dancer, creator, singer, performer - a drama maker - the spotlight queen! That was me.
For some time now, I've felt dead. Just detached and sad and depressed. I don't keep in touch with friends - I've let things fall behind. I've fallen.
And I haven't cared at all.
Lately though, I've felt a spark.
At times it scares the crap out of me because I'm not sure what to do with it. I don't even feel like I'm good enough to have it, but it is hot and fast and moves from the recesses of my brain into my gut. Trying to supress it makes me want to vomit. I don't sleep, my mind is going going going turning like a turbine ready to spark some fantastic machine that will launch me to something great and fulfilling and worth my time. And I know if I let this spark flicker too long without lighting something bigger than me it will fade and sputter out.
I remember this feeling. Like I'm going to explode, like I'm running so fast my heart breaks through my skin, like someone turned on the light and illuminated every mystery of the world. I used to have it all the time. Back then I couldn't control it - and didn't want to. I didn't know how to harness my power and self-destructed over and over again. And loved and loathed every single minute of it.
At some point - and I can pinpoint the time nearly to the second but am not going to tell you - I guess I just succumbed to the "supposed to" world. And the second I did I lost everything that was magical and wonderful about me.
There was a time that I was a firework - sparkly, bright and inspiring. Nothing and everything mattered at the same time. I was fiercely fantastic and dangerously loyal and just so into living life instead of being complacent and settled.
God I hope I'm here again. I want to be that me again.
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