I am tired of being tired
of trying to follow the rules
Who's rules anyway?
What do they know?
I used to do cartwheels in my living room
Dance to the music with my hair flying around me
I was the most impressionist dancer that you could ever hope to find.
I used to roll down the hill, laughing, then wander about in dizziness.
I would walk barefoot with my cousin on a hot summers day, down to the store, just to feel the heat radiating into our feet. When it got to be too much we would hop in the nearest grass and sit cross legged contemplating the random mushrooms that grew there.
I used to fly, high, high in a swing. Imagining that I could touch the clouds with my feet. Feeling the air rush over me, feeling the adrenaline.
I fly about my house now, so bothered by it all, by the world, the economy, the general messiness of things.
Yet I still want to do so much... I want to learn how to sing, really well.
I want to draw and paint.
Speak Spanish with the natives.
Go running through the sand dunes again and not care that there is sand in my shoes and hair.
I want to go walking along the river again, then jump in and let it carry me away, not caring about anyone seeing me or what they think.
I want to raise Nubian She Goats and milk them to make cheese. (LOL My dad's random thought).
Or go digging for mushrooms with a wild mushroom digging pig. (Also my dad's random thought)
I am tired of being tired. Playing by the rules that I can't fathom, of watching what everyone else is doing and thinking that whatever I do is not good enough.
I can be responsible and still spend my time spreading out paper along the floor, (or maybe the grass), getting the kids into their old clothes and then letting them paint whatever they feel like.
I can clean the house, with music ponderously playing as I hold a sock hop in the kitchen.
Or run up the hill taking pictures of the stars.
I can do anything.