Oh how life changes. We take in the scene and tell ourselves this moment matters most. But another comes just moments down the road and as we take it in and we let it in almost simultaneously. As if we know to hold onto this fleeting feeling for all it’s worth and to then make room for its coming brother. One we embrace. Repeatedly. And without hesitation. Hoping for that same momentary high that came with the last inhale. Oh lord what a high. But we realize after one too many moments that our high probably wont be ever high as that one that dictates our intensions. The one that points out subconscious and predicts our every move. And at that very second, it’s as if the hands have been taken away from our eyes. Though we have never been blind to it, we recognize our lack of understanding of our very own human intension. Disillusioned to the highs of our society, family, and world we simply mover more towards our goals now, rather then our childhood highs. Taking a second look at that candy bar, episode on cartoon network, and fresh snowfall. Replaced forever with books, relationships, and a pocket full of security. Establishing ourselves, at least that is what we tell the little man in the back of our mind. Not realizing we have sold our soul to our worlds expectations. And in fact have lost ourselves more then we have intended to. Where have those days gone? That moment when the sunshine on our face felt better then the crisp 20 in our pocket. When pursuing the beautiful girl you saw only once was the only thing that mattered at that very moment. The second the cold rain felt more like rebellion then the onset of the flu. God I miss you moments, childish moments, ignorant moments. At least I lived once. At least I can say I lived once. And at least I can look back on my failures, successes, and missed attempts with only minor self-loathing.  Holding back my tears because that’s what we have been conditioned to believe as normal. Even if we realize that’s what makes us want to cry even more. Hoping for that moment when the tears dried and emotions felt free to the world to see. Where you felt heard, understood, and simply there. In the vision of someone other then yourself. Other then the smoldering presence of your own detrimental perceptions. But we grow up, told to, expected to. So that we can get ahead, not fall behind, keep ourselves striving for a sense of perfection. Though we contradict ourselves with our mantra. “I’m human,” “Everyone makes mistakes,” “No ones perfect.” Oh just shut up already. As if the perfect Greek bodies weren’t enough to make those with delicate self-esteem wish for a dotted line to cut across. Hoping the pain can draw out those forbidden emotions, those shunned feelings, those ostracized outburst. WELL ******* WORLD AND **** WHAT IS EXPECTED OF ME. Because this moment right here, this high right here, this moment of purity will forever symbolize freedom. Suicidal ecstasy from a reality that I never wished to be a part of. A world and way of living that gives nothing and expects more then ones soul is capable of giving. NO, I will have my moments. I will have my sunshine and rain.  I will have my candy and first days of winter. I will have blissful, childhood ambitions and breath in that moments that gives me a high only life can offer. And when I release it, it will not be with the expectation that another will follow suit. But rather with the intention to free.