life is so, so short.

[ontobrokenwings]

sometimes people stare at me and notice the hesitation in my stance.
the look that says, "dont bother me. im floating."
and indeed i find that i am not walking
but hovering in my own silver haze.
its as if i have grown accustom to pain
and im not in the same house that keeps the prosaic
and unpleasant
but in a room just comfortable for one.
the mundane.
the lies of the world are less harsh,
and the outlook of a promising future is more moderate.
i can imagine any item describing beauty present.
and words opposite dissapate into nothing.
this is paradise for the few.
cynical emotion, pessimistic thoughts, they all wither before reaching me.
and whats inside decays before ever dismissing out.
suddenly i dont need to pay attention to my limbs swaying or feet floating above everything.
it doesnt matter.
the undulation of life is mounted upright.
im dissolved into life and captivated by all it touches.
ive become intangible like a reflection in this world
for the time being while i establish in another.
and when this hesitation fades
the observation in my stance doesnt untarnish,
but just lowers me down,
setting me softly onto the ground.

i wouldnt trade times like these for the world.