It feels as if Sisyphus reached the top of the hill with his boulder and accidentally lost control of it...where it rolled right back to the bottom and on to my chest. I can't breathe and the weight of time and of my own heavy thoughts crushes me, asphyxiates me. It is temporary. I know. But in the now all there is is the suffocation and the darkness of this void. My memories are my only consolation, so I shall take these with me into my dreams and hope that breathing will become less laborious as these cold hours pass.
Can someone please pass me an oxygen mask while I acclimatize?
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2 comments:
Asthma, not fun. I had the childhood version of that. Hope you're feeling better. Don't forget the good ol' ventolin puffer!
I don't really have asthma...just thought it was an appropriate metaphor. But that kind of thing always happens when I find I'm thinking too much.
Sorry to hear about your childhood experiences. Thanks for the good thoughts, Kal. :)
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