Because I look at the world everyday and I would do anything- absolutely anything- to, just for a moment, experience the ecstasy of being the things that I see. To feel the rush of being the drop of water at the top of the fountain at the Point. To be light as an autumn leaf drifting through the cool breeze. To be as soft and inviting as my bed at home. To be as dark and powerful as the weather just before a storm hits. To be a whisper; or a scream. To be snow, lit beneath a street light. To be the light from the sun- going so much farther than I will ever go. To be a mirror- the ultimate form of people watching. To be the wind- telling birds to fly and making humans want to.
I often stand atop Mt. Washington at night and gaze at all of the city lights. I pretend each light is a human life. I watch as night goes- some go on and some go off. They are like man-made stars. I see their reflections in the river and it looks like the lights there are from another city; beneath us- keeping us afloat. I stand there for hours and tell myself that if I jump off right now, I won’t die. Halfway through the fall my body will shatter into a billion shards. The wind will catch my remains and I will be spread out until I become the city; until I become this sight- I want to sacrifice myself to it.
That is the most beautiful tragedy that is being human. I am trapped by my body and I want, with every fiber of my being, to be something else, yet only as me could I understand that beauty and have that longing. I will always know what it feels like to be these things more than they ever can, yet I will never stop wanting.