Owl city

Today is the first day of the true spring - the kind of a day when it seems like all the people went out of some dump, musty lairs to purify their lungs with blossom-flavored breeze. I'm sitting alone in a weird-looking stone sculpture on the ground; a white, curvy, opened shell; and, considering all the conditions around, I feel pretty much invisible. It's exactly 13:02, and the display of my mp3 plays shows: Pixies - Where is my mind.
From the shapes of my nest all I can see is the line of a huge wall beneath which the river crawls, which I know but cannot see; a couple of paths with people every here and there, and a piece of sky - clear, blue, spring sky with clouds like wisps of cotton candy that you can almost feel the taste.
A lot of people are watching at me, I guess they find it unusual to see a girl sitting alone in the stone doing nothing at all. What they don't know is that beneath these sunglasses I'm peacefully observing them- their attitudes, faces, gesticulations... I'm sitting on the cloud, watching a giant aquarium in the sky, full of funny fishes unaware they're being subjects of attention.
Still, kids are the most beautiful to look on - they just run around all fancy-free and everything is so big and unknown to them, so wow! To me, day by day things are getting way harder to be wow - sometimes you feel it's harder to stay childish than to grow up..
Speaking about growing up, one dad had just taken a picture of his daughter making her first steps. It won't last long until she starts to believe she can fly - hope he'll be there to picture that, too. Instead of admiring that little miracle of life, most of the passengers are just looking at me. Maybe they think I'm keeping a diary, or writing some pretty love poem. I've always wanted to write beautiful poems! Perhaps I look like I'm drawing something magnificent and complicated? I draw terribly, yet I'd be glad if that's the way they perceive me.
Sun is slowly rolling somewhere up there, though I can't see it I see the shadows down below, and I feel the change of intensity his rays stab through the layers of my skin. It's time to leave now. I wish it was June, I wish I was sitting at the top of some mountain full of trees bellow me, and I wish I was with someone. I'm not sure who would that be, but I have a clear notion of how it should look, smell and taste like.
However, I'm here now. It's exactly 16:31, the April's afternoon's getting chilly, and I'm closing my notebook...for now.