It Is Upon Me

    It is upon me. That moment when I know the mania is inevitable has now come and gone. It rides me like the Fae ride the stolen mare, whipping her through the night and returning her to her stall lathered, heaving and near foundered. I can feel it. It is a force that fills my heart and soul. It heats me through to the marrow. My brain is afire with words, stories, memories, too many to try and put into print, all I can do is hope I remember once the inferno has cooled. My passions are rampant, I want to tastetouchfeel everything, anything. I want to feel the sun on my skin, the wind in my hair, sand beneath my bare feet. I want to roll naked in soft, sun-warmed grass. I want to climb the tallest tree and sway with the winds, laugh at startled birds. I want to experience the world. To laugh, love, lust. To breathe in the scent of your essence. I yearn for action, any action. Pleasure. Passion. Exultation. I want to yell at the top of my lungs. To sing aloud. Dance like a Dervish. I need a channel. A focus. My needs drive me, but without a path. I am driven, but I know not where. I must hold on as I feel the energy coursing through my veins, filling me to overflowing, erupting through every pore. I am explosive. Passionate. Driven by desires. If I only had a focus. I must focus. Find my focus. Focus.