I like laying on the floor like this.

I like laying on the floor like this. The room spins and I feel like my stomach could both sink through my back and rise through my chest. Childhood memories of jumping on beds and building forts out of the couch cushions, they pass like waves, in and out, gently. The fan spins overhead and I watch as the blades make their rotations, over and over for countless minutes. Time slows down and I feel the whole world look at me. It stops and notices me. It smiles and beckons, I understand.

I understand by the pattern the streetlight makes on my wall as it passes through my blinds. The diagonal shadows over the floral wallpaper. It’s winking at me, saying “Hey, I remember you.” I feel guilty for neglecting her, but she has a forgiving look tonight. We make amends, she was never really angry anyway. And so I sit in silence with the world for a few hours. The headlights from the cars on the street make a nice little coda to our conversation. We say good-bye and I start the long and painful comedown.

This is not a disease people. It’s an amazing way to live. Our bodies are capable of such incredible heights and only a few ever climb to the top of the mountain. It’s worth the effort. I assure you, the view from up here will stop your sight and crush your breath.

~ by thethingswethink on December 7, 2006.