It just makes me feel so impossibly small. At the same time it makes me feel an incredible amount of pride to just be alive, like I'm swelling up and glowing until I just consume the whole world. There's so much potential. It's exhilarating. When I get like this I like to lay in bed and listen to Lana Del Ray for hours while my mind debates whether or not it would be worth it to spiral into yet another existential crisis. Perhaps I have those a bit to often for someone my age. The rush of embracing life makes it worth the effort; there's almost nothing comparable.
I'm staring at my hands as I type this (and not only because I need to look at the keyboard to avoid extra typos) and feel like all of the energy in the world is running through my veins to my fingertips. Moments like these make me feel happiness in one of the purest ways I can remember feeling, like daisies and light and yellow have exploded out of my chest and I can't help but smile. I could do anything right now. I could post this and then pick up a notebook and start writing the world next great work of literature or practice drawing until I can create something truly beautiful.
And that's something else too. I just feel this unbelievable urge to create and just spend my whole life writing and drawing and dancing and singing until I can emerge from my cave and be happy. I want that more than anything.
Maybe this will be a good year after all.
1. http://teganjackson.blogspot.com/; 2. Filipa Aurelio's tumblr; 3. from the Ulysses series by Miles Donovan; 4. Unknown