The early morning haze, lifting gradually from the senses, light returning slowly to sight, and the body regaining feeling as if, for the first time, existing. It’s slow, at first; everything’s foggy. Then, as though turning a volume knob slowly to it’s maximum setting, noise returns to the otherwise silent world.
Was it always like this? Falling asleep whilst fighting through the unrelenting noise of the day having already gone by to the unmistakable void and weightless apathy of attempting to pinpoint a thought in the vast and yet, somehow, confining paradox that is the third eye.
Losing the sense of scale that comes with the knowledge of knowing where you are and how you compare, relatively, to the world in which you inhabit. Time becoming nothing more than an absurdity. Self becoming nothing less than all that will ever be.
Transporting that self to a place that doesn’t quite exist in a single location yet somehow exists everywhere. You are everywhere; you are everything. And then – poof – back to the here you are and existing in the now you become and none of that before even mattered.
And the world is fading back into being and you can breathe a deep sigh of relief in knowing that it didn’t disappear while you were away.