Blue, in blue skies drifting over a grey earth.
Blue turns to slate,
Slate turns to black.
Down below ants scurry home to hide from the impending storm.
Scurry. Scurry. Scurry.
Thunder!
Lights!
Action!
I am falling. Just falling and falling. Suddenly the ants aren’t so antsy anymore. They grow to the size of ink spots, then dogs. They morph into unfathomably large giants.
And all this while I’m just falling. Tumbling faster and faster. Falling harder and faster than anything I have ever known.
I land.
It’s warm and soft. It’s peaceful. I spot a lake of blue and white. It’s so quiet.
Thunder!
A moaning, roaring Thunder!
A stream bursts abruptly from the lake. It takes me along. The stream is salty, wet. Slightly sad.
What is this?
Why do I feel so detached yet so much a part of this sadness? Have I by stumbling into it, become a part of it?
We keep moving, gushing down slopes. I wish I could understand the feeling reeling through me. It hurts. I feel myself swelling up, wanting to burst. I’m confused. I used to be so blissfully unaware of any kind of emotion whatsoever. I feel sick. Sad.
Am I so different from this brine-like chaos?
I am falling again.
Tumbling down
And down
And down
Down to earth again.
I am free! Tumbling through the space of life. I am alive!
Content.
I hit fresh soil.
I seep into it.
I turn into vapour.
Bathed in light.
I turn into vapour And momentarily I am gone.
