there's this emotion that all of us seem to crave, and when we feel it, we know it so well. it's difficult to put into words, so we communicate it through music, art, and dramatic metaphors.

most adults i know seemed to have misplaced this feeling somehow. it slipped through their fingers as they made their way to ultimate maturity. emotionally, their eyes expose it, the abandoned home of the joy that might've once lived there. i've met some that still house the spirit of a child, though. they grew old but their hearts remained young and vibrant, it radiates through their aura.

i never want to lose it. the spark in all the little things that make us feel more alive. i will keep writing, i will keep finding new and unique ways to express myself, until others can experience the electricity coursing through their veins, through my work. it's sad that such extreme emotion is associated with the negative connotation of 'being childish' when really, it's just feeling things to the full extent of which they were meant to be felt.

the feeling scurries through wordless moments with a best friend at a sunset, seeing an old couple dance in a park, playing with a happy dog, listening to the rain in a quiet house.

pretend to experience life for the first time, with that extreme level of joy and curiosity, that extreme level of forgiveness and gentle touch.