Dichroic Reflections

I want

I want, I want, I want, I WANT ... only I don't know what it is I
want.

It's not stuff I want; I sometimes buy stuff to fill the gap,
but the satisfaction of that fades quickly. (Though at least afterwards, I may
still be dissatisfied but I'm dissatisfied while playing with cool stuff.) Books
are the only exception, because books are not objects but windows.

I
don't want things to have, I want things to do. I want adventure, travel,
experience, things to do that I can be passionate about. Things that will reward
my pasion. I want to go and do and be and feel and try and care.

I
want to live big. I don't want to live inside a caul that binds me in and blinds
me to the world, even if that caul is called a cubicle, or a status quo, or an
outside expectation. I don't want every day to be the same and I don't want to be
comfortable in the sameness of my life. I want to be completely alve in the
minut, whether it's a minute with candles, bubblebaths, and being careful not to
drop my book in the water, or a minute of slow drugging kisses and warm skin, or a
minute on a hilltop with me and the biting wind and the stark glory of high
places.

I want, I want. Veruca Salt in the Willy Wonka movie sang
about wanting the whole world. I want it too, only not to have, but to live.

Dum vivimus, vivamus!