It is a cold and rainy day. I love the rain. I slide into myself. Travel inward. My mind wanders. I try to force myself to concentrate on the day job that pays the bills. My imagination dances with thoughts, ideas and faraway places. The key board calls me to come and play. Again I try to refocus at the task at hand. It is impossible. My soul wants to join my imagination in surfing the underbelly of my mind. To create and explore the unknown. To bring to life new places and people, who are begging to be born, calling to me. Here I sit at work, doing my best to engage in the repetitive slow death of my immortality. Here is sit suppressing that which is demanding me to be more, to do more. To follow my heart. I have no windows, my soul is crying, my imagination fighting. The voices, the images they demand my attention. Staring at the screen, closing my eyes, slowly exhaling, I surrender. I allow myself to slip into the places that call, SCREAM! I travel to those places. Frolicking. Singing. Relishing in the moment that I am able to indulge, be one with who I am, instead just another paper pusher.