I went for a walk in this glorious sun and nearly lost my head in the beauty that was the world today. As I plod along with my headphones slung around my neck, watching butterflies float dreamily by, I couldn't help thinking how sad it is that butterflies only get to live for a couple of weeks. The whole world shone today and my body is allowed to live through so many of these beautiful days, while butterflies only get like fourteen at best, and only the lucky ones get such gorgeous weather.
Although, butterflies don't know what time is so they don't know how to waste it. I guess the idea of dying for them seems as impossibly far away as it does to me; or did. Or still does. I'm not sure if I know what dying really means yet. I don't think I ever will.
I could feel summer in the air today, I could smell it, that glorious smell of sweaty bodies sticking to leather car seats, of my primary school's football oval at the end of grade six, of riding slippery horses bareback into the dam and barbecues and sand and chlorine and crickets. I can't wait to get my licence and get in my little car and go and see all the things I've missed in the winter, I want to chase the sun with the people I love by my side and I want to drive along the Great Ocean Road with all the windows down and breathe in the eucalyptus and the ocean and live this life I've been given, like a butterfly who has no idea they're going to die in a matter of days.
Here is a picture of me crying because the world is beautiful and I have so much work to do before I can bask in it.
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