Saturday, October 2, 2010

Where The Wild Things Are

Wish I could be like this.


I feel I had never been the real me. She is there, but is caged. The real me is crying to come out freely.

I think, just like in the picture, to dig out the real me and feel free, is just simply to scream out loud. Or step up and dance freely.

Dance works better for me.

The wild spot. There is one in all of us. Whichever it is.