away

It's because going somewhere else is like taking a step back. It's like pouring your thoughts onto another's ears so they can speak fresh words into your hands. It's like showering the day's chaos from your surface before entering the nightly catafalque. It's the same as stepping into the ocean so you can forget land for a while.

It's like pushing that tiny triangle under your tongue to both leave this place and sink deeper into it. It's like gripping someone else's back and learning the etchings of their skin, so your fingertips remember them when they're not there. It's like recalling sixteen and aching with your future self's nostalgia for now.

In the end, time and place are nil. They are not anything except arbitrary configurations of our desperate, grappling minds. They are paradoxically the most quintessential and least tangible things we have. And yes, those of us who bleed are the lucky ones - we're not sitting below ground. We're melting into the same universe that the world's air is snaking its way through. We're necessary to everything else as everything else is necessary to ourselves.

Without us, there is no world. We're the stars that guide the earth's orbit, and we're the gravity of our own souls. Indeed, if it weren't for the hollowness of my body, I might float away, and see it all for what it really is.