Wildfire

I wrote a new song about 24 hours ago.
It's always these moments at night time where perhaps the most genuine side of me flourishes. I have no idea why. I wish I were a morning person. Things would be so much easier.
But there's simply something about this time at night, where everything is still, and there's no one here to please. I can start dancing around stupidly in Elmo pyjama shorts if I want to, and feel confident that no one is going to be watching.
So that's a really bad example, but it's an honest one since I actually did that last week. You know that song by the New Radicals, called You Get What You Give? "Don't let go, you've got the music in you" etc. etc.
Such a good song.

Ahem...

This song that I wrote is probably one giant fluke.
Somehow, through the simplicity and the analogies, I managed to (for once) successfully put the way I've been feeling into words.
That never, ever, ever happens to me, just so you know. 90% of the songs I write are ones I don't feel completely satisfied with, because it's just too difficult to find words that accurately portray how I'm truly feeling.

If you thought I was going to share the lyrics to this song in this post, then you are wrong... haha.

I'm just so relieved that I could sufficiently convey what I've been feeling in musical form, in a way that makes me feel happy with the outcome.

At the very least, I've told you the title of the song, since it's the title of this post.

If only I could do these kinds of things during daylight hours.*sigh*
Perhaps my aunt knows what she's talking about when she calls me a nightingale bird...

I can't count the reasons I should stay; one by one, they all just fade away.

 ~

Oh, how it astounds me; this change that is occurring at such a fast pace that I feel as though I'll be fined for speeding at any given moment.

The majority of this change (ha- unfortunately) is not happening on the outside as of yet. Some of it is, I suppose, but that change is a whole different ball park in which I don't actually understand the conventions of the ball game.
No; see, that change is something incredibly unexpected. It had come about in the most unexpected of ways, from the most unexpected of sources. Ever. These sentences are very much cryptic and therefore pointless to continue with, so I'll stop there.

But the other more internal change seems to establish itself in my head while I sleep. Then all of a sudden I will wake up with this... thing... growing as a thought I cannot shake.
And now I've got that whole weird, cliché, fate-like situation going on where suddenly all the songs you hear and all the movies you watch relate to these very things growing in your mind.
I always believed that happened simply because you were looking for those 'things'. And when you're subconsciously keeping an eye out for things, they seem to pop up everywhere.

But that is just it; Suddenly I'm keeping an eye out for 'things'. By things, I suppose I mean ideas.
Ideas about things.

Haha okay so I'm just gonna go with 'things', and leave it there.

But it's getting creepy now, to the point where the lyrics of a bloomin' Taylor Swift song start following me around and making sense amidst these... 'thing'-based... ideas.

'This hope is treacherous; this daydream is dangerous.'

I think instead of having to cut my ties in this place, they've been stretched for so long that they have all reached their breaking point. Funnily enough, I think that's a good thing.

I always wondered if those shadow-thoughts, following me throughout my life and telling me I didn't quite fit the bill for where I stood, held any real worth or value. I was never sure if they would amount to anything, so I think I just wrote them off as insecurities.
Turns out they were never such things. Instead, they're becoming prophecies.

'Forever going with the flow- but you're friction.'

I was always so astounded by the way each and every one of my brothers suddenly reached a point where they decided they were ready to move out and own a place for themselves. It would seem like it just happened in the space of a couple of days.
We would go from one year finishing to a new year beginning, and one of them would be screaming 'freedom' from living under the shade of our parents' wings.
I never understood how they could feel so confident in the idea of moving out and living away from everything they'd provide. At least I never understood it when I was younger. Whereas now...The average age that occurred for all six of my brothers was around 19.

'Nothing safe is worth the drive.'

I'm currently six thousand, nine hundred and fifty-nine days old.
And I'm hearing the silent sound of my own thoughts screaming at me to leave this place and fly away, and sing - or stay for perhaps one more day and sing while I wait for tomorrow to come, that I might leave this place and fly away, and sing.

There are very few things keeping me here, and they are becoming fewer by the heartbeat.

~