It is like holding your
breath. How long you can go before it is necessary to surface for air,
regain footing and context. Something is lost innate to sand in uniform perfect cold
concrete small
debris and painted lines sometimes your eyes tell you a lot. Sometimes they help you miss everything.
It is a way to detach from the ground, the world around me. Close in kind to laying in wide empty
farmland fields and soaking in nothing but dark sky and stars, no
city lights trees sound or buildings edging in. One of nothing and everything all. So it is nice to move at the same time, stepping slowly against cutting salt ocean cold which tangles around trying to get inside. In the afternoon sun crossing expanses of shimmering green grass the sun plays shadows and sort of shines through closed
eyelids in orangey reds, everything feels good, softer. Everything drops away except
trust, in yourself and the world. I need this from time to time, just facing forwards and moving kind of slow.
It is like holding your breath, it is like
walking around
staring up at the sky, only better.