I’m floating, but am I flying? I drift just high enough to see the catfish clawing at the 12 grain bread loaf. I feel aloof. I’m magnetized towards number One, fighting this endless drift that I try to shake off like salty beach water. It clings. I can taste it in my mouth. The door- not the door. The Drift listens as it hovers me over the roof, and plants me by the window. They’re smiling. I knew they would be. My vision blurs, I heave, trying to catch my breath before it escapes and they notice I’m here. I’m not here, I’m not here, I never was.
Yesterday on my walk with Jack we came across these beautiful cherry blossom trees. "The significance of the cherry blossom tree in Japanese culture goes back hundreds of years. In their country, the cherry blossom represents the fragility and the beauty of life. It’s a reminder that life is almost overwhelmingly beautiful but that it is also tragically short. When the cherry blossom trees bloom for a short time each year in brilliant force, they serve as a visual reminder of how precious and how precarious life is" (Cantu) . Kind of ironic that I noticed and appreciated them on my dad's birthday, but if you read my entry from yesterday , you already know that I don't really believe in coincidence. I've been thinking a lot lately about the idea of impermanence, and how "safety" and "control" are really just false states. Whatever I have in my life, I get to have today, perhaps this moment, but it might not be that way in five years...
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