To The Wild

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 One upon a half moon night, she looked out to the streets and wept.

2 years ago, she started her journey to the sky and beyond, but she knew that the journey had begun ever since she matured enough to understand life. Now, she knows that to understand life, she has to understand herself. And God oh God! It's more complicated than she thought it would be!

She didn't know that to understand herself she had to unravel every nod that shaped her networks and dig deep into the roots of her. Going down, she looks up to the materialized world above and it breaks her heart. Detachment, that's what it is. Detach yourself from everything and maybe you will exist as this independent entity you long for. But for what cost? She already lack the feeling of belonging.

It's becoming harder and harder talking to new people. And even harder communicating with old ones. She's pulling away from everyone and she can't help it. There's a huge hole in her heart that she's failing to fill. She missed things she doesn't know what and she's not aware of what is lacking but she knows very well that something is not there and she is not where she is supposed or want to be.

At this point, where no painting, no music, no art is filling up her heart, she must go to the wild. She must take off that mask of a happy little witch, and put on the robes of the wicca. Just thin layers of white clothing that shines under the sun, let her skin sparkles and her eyes light up, let her hair run wild and nothing around her but the sounds of existence. 

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