It feels like I woke up in April.
I’m talking total cell reverberance- this 5-D remembrance of how aliveness pricks at my skin, how my chest heaves at the magnificence of color seeping back into my landscape, trees filling in empty space as to invite in a deeper inhale, the build of the deafening croaking of frogs in my backyard shooting me back to the last moment I remember being, well, awake? Fully in my power? A question mark, as I’m still navigating the confidence, remembering what it feels like to wear that word. That’s the best way to describe how it feels in my body- twenty-five years chopped up into chunks of sleepwalking + daydreaming + transitioning back into awareness. An abuse of autopilot, living within the parameters of the metaphor for insanity, yearning for a sip of innocence, of simplicity, one so deeply coded in my neural pathways.
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