You know how in the books, there is the crazy glittering girl, the lost little boy in the shape of a man? You know how in the movies, there is the charismatic leader, daring and reckless and numb? The one fantastic creature of light and movement and life. Yeah, that one.

In the movie or book they are careening towards a devastating sad ending, where they will explode in a flash of light and noise and meltdown because it is impossible to live with your mind on full throttle and impossible to see clearly through the dazzling light of unhappiness. And we know this, we can feel it because it's in front of us, and we see the quiet moments between flashbulb smiles.

There are people I know, people we all know, there is myself at times, and we flit from brightness to brightness, from happy to happy, high to high, in search of light. (Or something). There is the glitter and sparkle and vibrance and spirit, full charm ahead. Too much, brighter and brighter the duller we see, louder and lighter and lovelier.

If this were a book, would we be the ones that sizzle from bright sparks to nothingness?

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