why is everybody

SO CALM? How can everyone be so contained, and rationnal, and BORED? We are breathing and the air is cold and it rushes in and out of our lungs and it feels like opportunity, the leaves are bright reds and yellows and still some greens and we are BREATHING little leaf particules and we are BREATHING the crisp fall air and everything is being redefined. In the instant of a breath we are reborn, the edges are sharpened, my vision is sharper, my goals are sharper. I want to run, run, run, not away but towards you. I want to want and I need to need and I live to live. I am starving to starve. I am everything twice over and how can one NOT be overwhelmed? Colors and shapes and smells and feelings, they are all there, so vivid, so innocent, unscathed, how did I not see them before? In the fall I become an explorer. An athlete. A whirlwind, sometimes, a thunderstorm, maybe. I wouldn't mess with a thunderstorm. I need this now. I need to not be on the computer except to hear from you. And maybe tell you a few things. I need to stop erasing and start racing and it's not a race against time, it's only going as fast as I can to be the most I can at once, it's a race against immobility, it's a race for being a lot of things at once; a race against ce qui est immuable, because I do not know the english word for that. And I should! And I will. Race, race, race. Run, run, run. I haven't done this in a long time. And I don't remember why.