Reaching down I gently lay my hand on the back of his neck. Pain surges from my fingertips to my shoulder. I realize now this isn't a religious experience. He cries in desperation to feel something. To be moved like we were. He watched as we hysterically laughed with joy. Moved by the spirit we throw our hands into the air, fall out of our seats, scream in praise.. My hands were shaking and I gasped for air. He sits and watches and begins to whither away. He collapses in on himself and I felt it was a cry for attention.. maybe he's saved? The moment we made contact I knew it wasn't any of the possibilities that had first come to mind. I see tears flowing down the faces of those who were once laughing. I felt dazed and somewhat confused, but so incredibly uplifted and happy. But now that I'm not the only one. Now that I have had one of the most important people in my life come to me with a similar unpleasant disposition. Maybe this isn't a curse, but a blessing. A gift to which I can try to help others... I think? How does it help? I can tell if your lying or not.. look into your eyes and know how you feel and sometimes what your thinking... touch you and feel how you feel at that moment.. feel the presence of our guardiens that help us more than any normal person would ever know. Almost everyone takes for granted what they don't know they posess. Maybe this isn't a blessing. Maybe more people than I realize understand. Maybe they see paintings too.. and maybe they can't speak what they see... maybe I'm just as normal as the girl that sits next to me in my American Government class. I'll never truely know. I've never been open about this obscured subject. Digging a little deeper into the simplicity I find answers and millions of questions. Will I be prepared for a horrid event in the near future with a little help from the ones I cannot see? Will I know what's going to happen in a few minutes because I painted it in my mind? Are my dreams a reality away? Maybe I'm just crazy.

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