I get this feeling sometimes like I know a storm is coming. Like I can feel the clouds coming closer, all dark and electric. It's a certain kind of anticipation. A pure thing. The kind of feeling I get when looking at elaborate salt crystals, because wow, the world did that.
I get this feeling about my life and doing stuff and being stuff in it. I care less and less about what I might be supposed to do, and the less I care about that stuff the more I get to care about writing and drawing and peering through tree branches and the colour of the sky, because a lot of the things we're supposed to need are a trick. A lot of the ideas about what we're supposed to be are a trick.
Realising that everything that matters actually kinda doesn't has brought me to the place where this feeling lives. I'm excited about what I'm doing all the time. It doesn't matter what I do or what I am half as much as it matters that I'm enjoying the whole being alive thing. The recommended path through life can be a trick too, so I'm probably gonna take a route right through the unflattened forest grass. I might get scratched by thorns, but that's fine.