17.6.12

Volcanoes.

When I type a lot, I feel like I'm playing the piano.
A rhythm of tapping and a melody of the words that flow through my thoughts and come out in words that will guide my misguided soul through the inner workings of a place that I do not quite understand.
There is a simple beat that plays the music of my body that quickens and slows with the world. It tells me how I'm feeling. It guides me through things that i might not understand just yet, and it gives me the option to slow or stop. To move forward or back and every night when I lay in bed and I can hear this beat that never stops, only changes, I know I am scared. I know that I have too much control and do not want to relinquish it because if I do I am afraid that it will stop all together and never start again.
If I do not keep the beat beating then I will cease to exist. I feel as though we all have  apart to play in the great symphony of life and when people stop playing their own beat, the world loses a little bit more of the soul that erupts with every beat of a heart and every step that people take. The volcano of life:
walk.
Run.
Dive.
Skip.
Sing.
Jump.
Sprint.
Dance.
Play.
Be.


I am my own melody and I walk to the beat of my own heart.