There are times when I feel alive.
That needs some explaining. I don’t mean that I feel dead or anything most of the time (contrary to popular belief), it’s just…
There are times when I feel good. Excited. Not happy, but with the power to be so, expectant towards a mysterious something. I grin, and I feel like walking, and looking up and around, and I don’t know at what or where to.
It’s never something that happens and starts things. It always happens in the process. Going to a friend’s, walking back from the train, in the middle of something else. It happened on Main Street tonight – I felt like walking home, or maybe somewhere else. Last time it was heading to the Winter Garden. It was raining, and freezing, and I stripped off my jacket and stood in the rain and looked up and laughed. I would have taken off the rest of my clothes if I wouldn’t have been arrested.
One day, I’ll listen to it. I’ll give in to this feeling that grabs me and changes the way I look at things. And I’ll keep walking.