(no subject)

I think I was a bird in a previous life. When the wind blows like this something inside me jumps with joy and I want to spread my arms and leap into the air and allow it to tug me upward and away from the surface of the world and all the problems that reside there. I want to soar with the clouds, float on the currents, rise above everything. But I don't, I keep my hands firmly at my side because I'm afraid of the inevitable disappointment that will come with the realization that I am bound here, that no matter where I go or what I do my feet must always return to the ground.