You Are What You Breathe
Yesterday I woke up around one in the afternoon, lay in bed for an hour and a half somewhere between dreamstate and deliberate force, fuzzily conscious and blotting out all the edges slowly darkening into focus with the sandpaper will of my wooden brain. Watching with the pores lining the inside of my respiratory system as the grey landscape of the bedsheets merged with the unpatterned white sky of the adjacent walls and I seemed to be sleeping in a cloud, though not asleep, just daydreaming myself asleep. My lips parted and my lungs filled with fog, replacing awareness with vagueness, perhaps escapism, the vapor satiating my interior skin, hydrating the desert of imagined reality that is, sadly enough, all I’ve been feeling lately. Reality. Loneliness. Loss. Fear. Fear has been cycling around my heart like a long-necked bird, ready to peck me apart. I'm lost. I'm looking around for something, but I'm not sure what.
Novelty?
Novelty?