Sometimes my heart persuades my head to stop everything and just leave. The passionate part of my head conjures up images of me off in the coutry somewhere, just being, instead of always aiming, endeavouring, planning, preparing, anticipating. When will I just be? When will I be able to close my eyes, smile, and not be attacked by pangs of guilt from being idle?
Too young to be feeling like this just yet, some may say, but I feel as if my heart is pained and stressed all the time. Always, I have to be effective. Always, I have to think of ways that I can wring more benefits and juice out of every second I live. Always, I am tired.
The frustration gets so much sometimes that I feel claustrophobic from life itself. Freedom, encased inside my heart, screams and pounds to be let it go. I am waiting for the rainbow. I am waiting for the dark night. I wish to lay my head down and sleep.
