Postcard from the bottom of the sea
Dear world above ground,
It is beautiful and strange here below the waves of consciousness. I go from hot to cold in a moment, from balanced to floating to struggling for air. The only consistency is knowing that whatever I am in this minute will be different soon.
I know that somewhere in this floor, there is a chasm that would allow me to slip farther down, to sink into the deep soft grass and close my eyes and sleep. I would like to sleep, even knowing that sleep would pull me deeper still.
I am not always sure how to find down or up from here. It is a disorienting place, a place where colours and sound is suddenly bright and loud but somehow without meaning and the air vibrates.
I feel the pull of the surface. I am not ready yet.
Be well,
Linda
It is beautiful and strange here below the waves of consciousness. I go from hot to cold in a moment, from balanced to floating to struggling for air. The only consistency is knowing that whatever I am in this minute will be different soon.
I know that somewhere in this floor, there is a chasm that would allow me to slip farther down, to sink into the deep soft grass and close my eyes and sleep. I would like to sleep, even knowing that sleep would pull me deeper still.
I am not always sure how to find down or up from here. It is a disorienting place, a place where colours and sound is suddenly bright and loud but somehow without meaning and the air vibrates.
I feel the pull of the surface. I am not ready yet.
Be well,
Linda
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