I have missed that high. Or rush. And yes I am talking about that carefree feeling from night outs. I have missed that feeling of fearlessness walking in darkened city streets, knowing the danger they may hold. I could say I live for that feeling whatever name it may have. To exist without fearing for any mortal danger, how liberating those few moments are.
Whatever escape these experiences bring me. I am fully aware of their repercussions. My body, mind and soul have been reduced to shadows of time and echoes of the golden past waiting for the stolen moments of escape. But it is a vicious cycle and it is difficult to get out. Pulling yourself out of that pit you made, running from yourself, escaping from the escape you created. It is a fucked up truth.
And so I run. Again. Run into the sunrise shore. Alone in the near darkness waiting for the sun to shine. And there I see the hope. The hope that only you can bring to yourself, not others.
The difference is that I have a destination. It does not matter that I run again. It matters that I know where I want to go.