it’s all dancing to me

Whenever I hike, my mind rests between two extremes: on one end is the need to run, embrace nature by conquering my fatigue and the next peak ahead of me- and the next and the next; on the other end is the need to stop at every flower on the verge of blooming, waiting patiently with it as it musters up enough courage and enough water to reveal itself.

Its a similar feeling, this war of extremes, that wages when I want to talk to someone in a bar. A part of me wants to rush up with reckless abandon, arms boldly pushing me through the crowd and offer them a drink or a dance; but there is also a part of me that wants to stay in the safety of the booth, nursing my drink and slowly waiting until I muster up enough alcohol and enough courage to reveal myself.

I still haven't decided which I prefer more....