Sometimes I would like to know just what am I feeling so anxious for; like you are waiting for something, like you are missing out on so much. It’s terrifying really, because it happens to you during those slow lethargic hours when your limbs are phantom and your mind is lulled. You eyes might be quick enough to catch the brief glimpse of a life time, but you find your brain has been too fried to carry out the thought process.
And in this moment you might feel slightly disconnected from the world, where each velvet stroke of sunlight becomes a form of cosmic star burst and you know it no longer ties to this certain plain of reality you stand on. It must be the early spring dusk, it must be the fairy dust in the air that causes this cathartic effect upon your eyes. The intensity in which you recognize the world we live in, it is a lonely beautiful trait you wish to share with someone who hasn’t quite come along yet, and you begin to doubt if they ever will. And with each step you take it’s only that you have been stepping backwards into the tepee of our universe’s loophole, and each seared vision is the way the world leaks into our living room door with an open mat policy.
I am humbled, beckoned by this call for duty, catapulted only in stark realization several hours later when the lights have gone out and the night soothes your senses in maternal fatigue. I cannot even describe for you the chronicles of this event. It’s as if one has died to see the tunnel of light and came back to life. You are stunned and oddly mistaken to think to speak of this tongue where one might reckon it to be a siren’s call. It will tell you if you listen that you should known we have been here many times before. The dissonance in your mind will surely be telling. Best to perceive it with blurred vision and try not so hard to discover the many secrets of this world. The lucidity would be offensive otherwise.