Running

When it’s god-awful and ever-blinding “probably-are’s” crowd and haunt every sight you inhabit,
Run.

Run into someplace that vibrates with do-this-now and inject-something, pop-something, consume-something sensibility.

Feel how your heart wrenches less and your mind quietly brims with overload, with an outpouring of sizzling desire and fallible question marks, with news of yesterday and the damn-you’s of today. Feel how much more alive you feel at the hands of numbness.

You feel alive at the peacefulness that veils your vision when preoccupied with the worries, tribulations, finalities of the fans scurrying behind “the dream” before you.

You feel alive at the sound of nothing drilling you to reach out to a warm body for no reason other than because you want to.

You feel alive at the adjusted acceptance that you will hold others and be held by others for only a sheer moment of a split second, so fleeting that when you think about anyone in particular, you see a blurry bed of noise instead, floating through a garden of electric waves and determined lights.

You will feel secure that this was as expected and perfectly contracted between all parties involved.

You’ll forget that you absorb everything into significance. You’ll forget that you want to hold things in the palm of your hand, if only just to see it up close and admire it the way it was designed for. You’ll forget that you want to ask for more time, more memories, more chances, more alternatives, more connection, more moreness. You’ll forget you’ll want these things all over again when you hear certain songs or sit at certain places or put pen to paper at certain angles.

You’ll forget that god-awful, never-ending blindness that accompanies real pain, felt only by the dying and taught by those about to be born again.

And so, if that’s what you want – then run for your life. I’ve heard it’s worth it.

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