Isn't it strange?

How inspiration is like sunlight? It kind of feels like when you put your fresh-out-of-the-drier clothes on and all you can think of is the warmth and all the little words mustering up inside the delicately sewn stitches. Isn’t it strange? How we can love people we didn’t even know existed? How we’d gladly take their pain away, just so we can have a little bit of them and keep their unknown soul impervious. It’s kind of like starting in the middle of a season of every one’s favorite television series, knowing it’s going to be good, but you hadn’t been there from the start. Isn’t it strange? How melodic tunes can make us whimper silent poetic harmonies, or dance until our bones rattle with joy? They say it’s the structured character of the music that can pull on your brain and body’s chemicals and make you “feel” different things. I think it’s the humans capability to let go of everything physical and feel everything sublime; To forget the fact that we all are of skin and bones and veins and organs and chemicals, and relish in experiencing something that cannot be explained by things as such. 


At times I can’t find any form of word for any one emotional current I am feeling. Though, at times, I can find a million words for what I want to feel.
Isn’t it strange? 


At times I want you to feel a certain way by the words I say, but I end up never saying them. But sometimes I’ll spill all the light that steals into the world and sometimes you can’t see it. Sometimes no one can see it. 


I’m looking for the one that can.


Isn’t it strange?