The Great Sensation

By R. S. Azalea

So I hear this great passion, I hear, I won’t deny it, its consuming all of my being, taking over all sorts of thoughts.

Imagine having such power, not only over one self, but in other self’s perhaps. Having such great intensity, something that people have not.

A force so strong coming from my gut, spreading up, to my chest, expending it, making my heart race with mustangs, as their hoofs pound hard on the living land. Feeling my in taken breath feel like shards of ice. It’s so painful that I must stop inflating my lungs, but I don’t, I want more of that air that fills my lungs to their fullest and puts the self in me back to life.

To feel my legs tickling, getting ready to run, race, overlap one another taking me further and further to nowhere, to somewhere! I want to rip my throat apart by screaming so hard with excitement or laughing, or maybe both, I just don’t know which one so I don’t, I smile and grin, almost arrogantly but free and maybe a bit confused. To raise my hands and flap them all over, to make them move apart from swinging back and forth in their usual routine as I walk up and down the same old streets. And all of this glee has made me disappear into billions of microscopic hues of atoms, making me weak and feeble. And anticipated for the next corrupted sensation.

A/N: What do you think? do you sometimes feel like this too?