It's no use. I simply can't be philosophical, ethereal and vague. I've tried; little tiny, private and hidden attempts... halting, hesitant, half ashamed - which clued me in immediately that I was trying to be everything I was not made to be. Why is it we desire to embrace and possess what we are not? It's a big question with an even bigger answer, and I've thought about it; briefly, slightly, wishing I could think deeply on it and uncover an answer which would bring me respect and recognition. But my dear little mind hops and skips from one thing to the next, looking for a drop of happiness here, a smile there, the wings of a butterfly. I love beauty in every form. The agony of it, the exhilaration of it, the madcap, hunky-dory freedom of it. I am serious often, especially at night when the darkness caresses my body, soothes the smile from my face and tucks it under the bed. I lay awake wondering... wondering why I was not chosen to understand life. But then, just as I fall, fall, fall into sleep a Thought nods it's little head and whispers "Perhaps there are many ways to understand life... So many parts of life to understand."