On Love, In Sadness

I am neither "in love" in the traditional romantic sense, nor am I sad.
I am actually quite happy at this moment. From my dorm, I can both see the mountains and hear a flute, a drum, guitars and a harmonica. Today, while walking back from class, I heard a boy in a rocking chair playing "A Day In The Life". Do you know how amazing that song sounds acoustic? It didn't instill the lonely existentialism the Beatles' version does--contrarily, it made me feel awake, alive, enriched and in love (I had also just gotten out of African Dance, which does similar things to my consciousness).
I like to say that I am in love with everything. This is not a stretch--I quite literally find myself loving the most banal little things. Sometimes I am charmed by the curve of a leaf on the ground, other times I fall in love with the way my books, my feet, or someone's neck is positioned. Everything is lovely to me.
I've been experiencing the typical college mood swings--lust, confusion, joy, loneliness, stress, interest, ect. Often, I feel all those things within a span of five hours. My days are full of moments I steal for myself, listening to music or writing or doing yoga or cleaning or relaxing and thinking about the world (my favorite thing to do). My life never looks the same from day to day--it's a kaliedoscope of people, places and feelings, many of which are generated within.
I love every minute of it.