Just Write

      I sit here, itching to write. I can feel the letters begging to come out of my fingertips, but all that seems to happen is, "afohfodiahog doiuh sfior soit i anf djfk." There are words that I'm dying to say, they just won't come out in the right order. I can feel a fantastic rant just dying to explode out of my chest. But alas, I sit here, dumbfounded, all the potential is nothing more than that, potential. I have no idea what to say... I know I'm feeling sad, lonely, and angry. That much I know, but I don't know how I can write about that...
      And as I write more about how I can't write, I'm hoping some kind of revelation will submerse me and satisfy the anxiety to write. So now I sit... I'm sitting on a big brown chair, my feet stretched onto the coffee table. Close my eyes for a second... Now I'm sitting on a cloud, looking down at everything in my life. I can see my house, and down the street my friend's houses, there's my dad mowing the lawn. My friends walk to the park laughing and passing around secret notes, or maybe they're going to another friend's house. And look there I am, in the living room still on the laptop, missing the opportunity.
      I open my eyes. Reality, my heart sinks, I want to get away from reality... Let's go again.
      I close my eyes. This time I'm still on a cloud, but it's different, the cloud seems wetter, and when I look down nothing is familiar. I squint as I always do out of habit. I can see the ocean and the sun lazily hangs and burns downward. Leaning forward on my cloud, I suddenly fall, I slip right through. My gut lurches, down, down, down. The sensation is fantastic and horrifying at  the same time. About to hit the ground, I brace myself, but no impact comes. I'm merely standing on a random street. To my left a young  lady steps out of an outdated car carrying groceries. She looks to be in her early 20's maybe, she looks so familiar. I follow after her. "Annie!" A lady calls from across the street, I immediately turn and stare at her expecting her to stop and talk to me. But instead of talking to me she runs right through me, going to the woman I had been following. I turn.
        Again, the scene changes. This time I'm inside a house, the living room is spacious and modern. Sitting in the dining room a woman, man, teenage boy, and toddler girl sit together. The teenager has dark hair and eyes that look like a stormy ocean. He smiles crookedly at something his father says. The little girl bangs on the table with her spoon, her also dark hair smeared into her face, her big brown eyes wide and curious. They all talk and look to be thoroughly enjoying one another's presence. I walk over, wanting to be a part of it, but stop. I know I don't belong right now.
        This time as I turn I anticipate the change. Now I'm in a different house, a Christmas tree stands tall, an older looking couple sit on a couch together. The older couple again seems familiar, I can almost feel what the old woman is feeling. Two other young couples sit on the ground with young kids. Present wrappings are strewn everywhere, and the mood is light and happy. I sit for a moment and just gaze at the happy family. Knowing this time what I'm looking at, I smile to myself. Then I stand up, making the change this time.
         Now it's a bit colder, I'm set on a porch. The wooden panels are beginning to fade and the paint is peeling. In the corner two chairs sit close. Two elderly people occupy them, their wrinkly hands holding the other's. The women is looking out into the ocean, she has long grey hair that I knew she had refused to cut because she didn't want the "old lady Afro", there is a faint smile written on her face and she looks very at peace with herself. Next to her, the old man had a tenderness in his eyes that most men seem to lack, he looks at her and still sees the beauty. She turns her head towards him and grins, a playful childishness in her face.
         I stick my hands in my sweat pockets and look to the horizon. I'm about to let myself fade from the mirage when I step off the porch instead. I walk towards the ocean, soon on the beach, I'm alone and the sun is starting to set. The sand goes between my toes. The smell of salt hits me, the roar of the unstable life of water drowns out all other noise. I keep walking. At first just my feet are wet. I keep walking. Now my calves are also submerged. I keep walking. Now my waist. I keep walking. A big wave comes, it's up to my neck. I keep walking. My head goes under. I stop because now I can't walk, I begin to sink, and I let myself go. My lungs don't burn, I have no fear. My eyes close. For awhile I feel nothing, absolutely nothing...
            Suddenly, I hit a surface. It's soft and dry. I let myself open my eyes. I'm back. The laptop's white light gleams at me. I smile, and begin to write. Knowing now what I've been itching to say, and now I realize it's not what I wanted to say, it's what I wanted to know. I wanted to know what I want. What I want in life. Where I want to go, and how I want to do it. And now I know. I can see it all, I can feel it, and I'm so close... But for now I'll just write.