4am writing time

I wish that I could be invisible in a crowd of people just to make snow angels between the constant streams, like a pebble in the creek, a needle in the hay.

Some people wish that they were popstars and others want to be dead but all that matters to me is that I can still smell the scent of life after it rains on a country road. I rarely feel this but under circumstances, I am blissful. 

I wish that I could feel the warmth of the sun rising and the world waking up beneath my own two palms and soles, feeling the earth heat up like a warm hug. To feel the sounds of crickets and other various bugs buzzing through my heart, to taste the moisture in the air.

I want to go somewhere.

Somewhere that is full of cities but also packed to the brim with undisturbed nature, if only that were achievable.