What you wish you were
For long spans of time, I have wished to be someone else.
To be stronger, or smarter, or skinnier, or prettier, or better.
For long bouts of time, I have wished to be elsewhere.
To be on top of mountains, or in deep valleys, to swim in the ocean, or to see lions and tigers and bears.
It wasn't until recently that I realized that these wishes weren't quite a real desire. That all these things I wanted to be or do, weren't things I actually wanted to do, they were the cries of help of my inner imagination going unused. Of me suppressing the outward world and living in an inner escapism.
I had countless stories to tell, characters to create, story arcs to behold.
Don't get me wrong, I do like to travel, I do like to "work on myself" but now that I know it was my inner voices wanting to become something more than just thoughts, but to become images and things on paper and in word processors. Now I feel freer to be me. To let those voices sing and become what they want, rather than fester inside and die away without ever being heard.