A little nostalgia, among other things

I wish I could recall that floating feeling I used to have...
These days it seems gravity has too firm a hold on me.
I remember the times I could have touched the clouds,
Remaining on the ground in sheer defiance of my feelings.
Now it seems I've not the energy to jump.
It isn't that I'm in a bad way, no.
In fact I hope to never live worse.
Reality, if that's what you want to call it,
has come in out of the rain and is drying itself in the living room.
With my only towel.
I miss the days I felt everything was just as it should be.
I miss looking into the future and seeing everything in technicolor.
Now it's all just bad TV.
I know this is what Life is, and I expected it...
But just this once can't I be wrong?
I know, I think, no, I BELIEVE I know what love feels like.
Why is it so hard to find?
I want to walk the earth again with a feeling like nothing can touch me.
Like nothing is real and too vivid at the same time.
Like a technicolor dream where everything goes according to plan and the villain is not so bad after all.
But I know this is not possible.
Reality hands me a towel which is now badly in need of drying.
I'll have to take it to the laundry.
I'll have to take this wet towel, this soggy rag of a life used and discarded by reality,
and throw it in the dryer.
I have to throw in the towel.
I have to give up.
But after I've let cold hard reality wash over me like a mountain waterfall for a time,
I can take the towel out of the dryer.
I take it back.
I can take it all back.
I can,
and I will.
My life will be warm and fuzzy again, sometime.
But like a roller coaster, it has it's ups and downs, if you'll excuse the cliche.
I hope this is one of the downs.
That would make the ups that much higher.
I've seen things that most middle class Americans would prefer didn't exist.
Things they might even deny existed.
I know I'm not bad off.
But it won't stop me from pursuing better.
From dreaming of a higher life.
From finding the floating feeling again...
For now it escapes me.
So much can be expressed in a word: Love.
I like to think I know what that means.
Maybe I don't.
What I do know is that I need to find it again.
I have this base biological urge to mate, for life, and it consumes me.
But I also have a need to learn, and love what I'm learning.
On top of that, I have this perverted drive to write.
To put down my thoughts in poetry, if you could call it that.
I put myself to shame by writing these things in such basic "verse".
It's bullshit.
All of it.
Who can truly understand?
Even if I spell it out for you, would you truly understand?
No.
It's Impossible.
But then, when have I ever listened when I was told something is impossible?