The Inexplainable

I'm a stereotype. In fact I am the character most books revolve around-the ugly duckling straining to become a swan, the dreamer on a quest to find herself, the princess with a lost shoe... Its quite unromantic really. As much as i convince myself that I'm quite the moon maiden Linda Goodman insists I am, the only thing i seem sure of is the wild loony bird lurking behind the otherwise sane exterior.
I see my life as a huge glossy colourful photograph that everybody I know seems to be a part of. And then there is me- blurred- smiling uncertainly, her toe dragging circles into the sand. Almost like I was pushed into the frame at the last moment and I hadn't quite registered the photographer's request to say "cheese" or maybe I had but i refused to comply because Ifelt like I didn't belong.
Except that its my life.
Sigh. But the picture is beautiful, just like the beach in the background, the skies are sunny while the waves are blue and restless and alive (In a creepy, Harry Potter-istic way) and it makes want to break out of my cocoon, and kiss frogs and look for a shoe that fits just right.