Windchimes

the window is wide open in the room where i sit, and windchimes trinkle in the breeze. blue curtians dance from the ceiling and swirl about from the rod at every gust. they seem to be dancing or running. my guess would be the blue curtians wish to be free. maybe they want to rip away violently and float off to somewhere far away. i shut the window and promise the curtians i will take the with me when i go somwhere far away. they stop squirming around.

my best friend is anger with me. its bothersome and annoying and the tension between us provides a slight headache behind my right ear. her words trinkle though my mind, like windchimes (irate, yelling, stubborn windchimes.) she claims i am changing- what every person hopes for yet secretly panicks when confronted with. at first the word change startles me and sends me to one of those dark corners of my mind to hide. yet after i take a second thought upon her theory i beleive she could be right, just as right as she is wrong. or maybe shes just all wrong. and comepletly rediculous. and over reacting.

no, she could be right. maybe i am changing. i am not speaking of a metamorphosis, more so a revelation. she needs to know that at the end of my revelation, i will still be me. new and improved. she needs to know ive been the same for 16 years too long. same was misserable. same was boring. same was same. im done with same. screw same. life is too short to stay the same. i want to be the person who i see myself as.

It's never too late to start living the life you've always wanted to live, or to start being the person you've always wanted to be.