volo, je veux, i want

i want to paint my face with beet juice and run through redwood forests in a wispy white dress, thin and light with my feet barely touching the earth. i want to fall asleep declining latin nouns and wake speaking french. i want to leap from tall buildings in a single bound.

i want to look like the beautiful slender girl made of light i saw yesterday. she was sad and she had beautiful elbows and even more beautiful skin. i want this weight to fall off me like dust and i want to stop feeling stumpy and concrete.

mostly i want to wander among the fog and the redwoods, disguised in beet juice, colors dripping onto my dress and echoing the sunrise. i want to learn the birds' languages and go feral for a while, curl up in a den and suck sap from maples. i want dirt under my nails. i want to wear red leaves in my hair.

i want to not need and to not need to scream and to not need ice cream. i want ten thousand things and i want to not have to worry about my body and about food. i want the stars to shine off me and my bare feet to settle in the earth. i want to change states and become a liquid for a time, a gas. i want to be beautiful.

i want too many things and this is an endless, failing quest. i know this. i am not afraid. i am not hopeless. mais non, i dazzle with foolish hope. i sing with mania and longing. i do not know when to stop.

i stopped eating in april because i wanted too many things i could not achieve immediately. i am still not eating and my intense wanting has returned. i am happy and i am desperate and i do not know what to do with this. i cannot sleep at night for the sheer excitement of all the things yet-to-do and left-undone and still-to-explore. i have energy like never before and i am living in a time dilation all my own. the clock does not tick and races in a hum all at once and i do not know where we are in the grand scheme of things but i know intimately what i have not yet accomplished.

i am not sure what to do with this. i am not sure what it means. i am not sure what anything means anymore but i know this state is preferable to most others and that at least i am getting things done. i am learning. i am getting thin. i am avoiding whatever it is that i am trying to avoid and i am doing a good job of not informing myself of what it is.

i am merely wondering idly about my sustainability. how long can i keep this up? how long can i exist in a frantic universe of my own? when will someone catch on, or rather, when will i implode?