Bits and bobs from the corners of my mind

Lost

You know what people find quite odd about me? Is that I get lost. I'm not speaking about when you wander the endless streets of a foreign town due to losing the map. I mean lost within yourself, within the fabric of this world. I lose myself in dreams and fantasies of scenarios that will never happen and make believe worlds where I control the strings. Wandering through these swirling ideas that pass by in the blink of an eye like a sideshow set on the speed of light where all you glimpse is a blur of colour and words as they zoom off. Where reality is nothing and dreams are the base of all. I lose myself, in everything that seems so small yet I see them for what they are.

For example, as the seasons change I don't see just colours come and go or plants growing and dying. I see life. I see vibrant beams of light dancing off new born leaves in spring, and the dazzling sun of summer as it lights the hills and mountains, reflecting off valley rivers and mountain streams. Then, a colder wind beginning to brew, sweeping the now dying leaves off the ground and turning them into a whirl of oranges and reds and yellows as they dance through the sky as autumn takes over, and finally a crisp blanket of pure white, covering the ground everywhere, so perfect and untouched, and when it melts, the streams of melting snow washing away everything from this last year, taking the last signs of winter and everything with it, leaving a new canvas for it all to begin again. It's marvellous.

It effects everything, this, magic. It's in the music we hear floating through an open window or blasting through speakers, the laughter of a young group of friends as they drown themselves in these moments of bliss, the tears streaming down someone's' face as they reunite with an old friend. It surrounds us, splashes of colour whipping around and dancing through the air, bringing life to everything it touches. It is without a doubt one of the most beautiful things a human being could ever see.

It's like, standing on a rooftop overlooking fields. All they see, is what is there. But I don't. I see the life, the rhythm of the earth as all aspects of the world are breathing as one. I see every single detail that others can't, and that's what scares them. They are scared of the life and beauty that captivate me and others who are the same. The life that breathes though the art, the music, the words created by those of us who see it. It's a world that they do not know of, that is a mystery to them. So they ignore it, they teach those who can see it to tuck it away, to hide this wonder in order to fit in with what they know. We are taught that it is wrong to see this, to see the colour of the world, the life within it. So, we learn to hide it, to show no sign of seeing these wonders in hope that it will make us like them. But it won't. It will never work because it is impossible to ignore it. You can't ignore the sun as it shines down on us, or the rain as it soaks us through. It's like giving an artist a pallet with only the colour grey and telling them to paint what they see, how they feel.

This world is not just a series of events followed by the inevitable ending of death, it's like a blank book. Our stories began the moment we entered this world and nothing is predetermined for us, we are capable of writing and rewriting our stories as many times as we wish. There is no set storyline for anyone, we control the pen.

This is why I write. Why some people paint or create music or dramas and plays. The list is endless. I take these wonders I see, the colour around me and turn it into something else. I escape into this world of fantasy and intrigue created by my own mind to give me a taste of freedom. To provide a brief slot of time where I don't have to block out the colour, the life. Where I can see the world as it should be. I, like many others, create books and stories, paintings and art, dramas and plays to act as a small window to how the world looks to me. Everything I am pouring out onto pages or canvases, momentarily pausing time on these wonderful scenes.

I get carried away with these things, letting them invade every corner of my mind like grains of sand, you can sweep it away but a few grains will always stay behind. According to other people, I shouldn't let these thoughts stick to me and get lost within my mind. That's what makes me odd. But hey, what can I say.

I like getting lost.

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-Mik