Desiderium - noun - an ardent longing, as for something lost. You know that feeling? That epic black hole in the pit of your stomach that's weighing you down, making you feel small and helpless and perhaps even abandoned? I know that feeling, in small doses like painfully bitter medicine, but I do. It's not as sharp and clear as one would think it to be... It's more large and round and heavy and smooth, like a large stone one carries in their palm with a cooling sensation of hope. The longing, the yearning, pure desideria... It appears to be a part of life, that feeling. It comes and goes, with unimaginable amounts of other emotions and sensations that prickle the skin and knot the stomach. What I feel right now isn't exactly the wild, oddly unknown desiderium, but the fear of it. What I feel is the fear of a child clinging so tightly to their innocence and precious thoughts and magical worlds, and the idea of losing all of it just seems so terrible. ...
I prefer to experience things in my life with a certain clarity. If my perception becomes too warped or obscured, I become overwhelmed, and where's the fun in that? I prefer to take my time with many of the activities I partake in; such as running, eating, reading or creating. Like my actions, my emotions need a bit of time as well. Time to develop. Time to heal. Time to expand. My experiences are important to me because they make up who I am. Sometimes I let them become too important, however, and one wrong move upsets me beyond recognition. But I just have to remind myself that even the worst days have some merit to who I am as a person. My life is not justified by my sorrows, burdens and mistakes, but by how I choose to act and deal with them. That's how everyone should feel. There is a certain clarity that comes with knowing oneself, to see and to reflect on one's experiences and to make sense out of even the slightest mistakes. There is so...
There are some people in this world with their heads stuck in the ground; like ostriches they sit, dumbfounded, creatures of the earth, constantly digging for precariously precious metals. And then there's us: The people in this world with their heads up in the clouds; we sway back and forth like giraffes with our elongated necks high and proud because we're so very sure of our dreams, the small intangible things that are ever so endearing to our round drooping eyes.
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