Sometimes, I feel so aware of the world that it hurts. I feel like every second is so real that I can almost touch it; like time has slowed so much that it is tangible and everything is. In these moments, remembering to breath becomes a chore, as each lung creates disturbances within my chest. The air is often dripping with moisture, beads of water practically suspended, fully formed, in mid-air. These moments seem to exist for smoking — the soothing aroma combines with the moment and you feel like you are a million miles away, floating above this reality. Even now, long since smoke free, these fragments of time are both exhilerating and frightening; it can feel like time will not start up again.
Image: unknown photo of man smoking Djarum Black cigarettes
Featured Image Art: photo by Nicolas Ladino Silva (via Unsplash)
Brian….you are a fantastic writer. I have missed talking to you this past week about nothing in particular. I hope you have a good Easter.
Love you.