Sometimes I would get on the highway and think “I could go forever.”
In my room, I scrolled down Tumblr, asking “Why can’t I be there?”
I saw two people kissing and sighed “This isn’t fair.”
But I heard a man outside my window, he was cutting grass.
I got up from my screen and looked through the glass.
I realized that this window was a metaphor of our whole lives.
Something between us and the things for which we strive.
We stare out all day, but do you ever look from the outside in?
Do we ever go out and look at where we’ve been?
Like me, some sit at the computer, looking longingly at the screen.
But I look at the window instead, and appreciate where I’ve been.
It’s about making memories in the place you are before you move on.
Cause how could we appreciate if we long for the next one?
I looked at my window, press my fingers against the glass.
I can feel the vibrations of the man cutting grass.
For now, this is where I am and I have stuff to do.
I have dreams for later, and I will work to make them come true.
Few things can be done while longing at a screen.
Many things can be done in this place that you’ve been.
For once, I didn’t wanna be at my screen, I wanted to be outside my window.
I was happy for that because that’s a place I can go.
The man stopped cutting grass, I got back to the website that you see.
To tell you all this thing, what the window had told me.
I love most of the people in my life and I love most of the memories.
But I have this wanderlust that seeps through my heart.
It makes me do weird, crazy things and the people I love don’t wanna understand.
It makes me speak weirdly.
It makes me go into a space of depression because I wanna adventure so damn much.
It makes me close my eyes in the car and turn the radio up, as I imagine the car won’t stop until I am in California.
It makes me cry because I feel misunderstood.
But it makes me smile but I’m a dreamer.
And it makes me feel bittersweet because with wanderlust come leaving and leaving is so hard.
But with leaving comes being gone and being gone is going somewhere.
Does anyone understand?
Just before the sun completely disappears from the horizon,
Everything blue on earth reaches up to the sky,
Painting the heavens with a thousand different shades.
The stars, white, remind the world,
“The darkness will not enshroud you.”
“I will always be here, even after the dawn comes.”
The stars, singing their chorus from millions of miles away