be

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seconds fly
hours dissolve into each other
impossibly dense with have tos and maybe laters and not enoughs
souls weary from vacuum-sealing meaning into each moment
because they can feel the sand running through their fingers like so many missed opportunities
they want to be happy
but happy is not something you DO
it is something you let happen
(not nearly as easy as it sounds)
it is something you trust enough
to let go of voices screaming of downward spirals and dead ends
It is smiling down at the twin mattress five thousand feet below as you sever your parachute with a fingernail
but once you’re falling
you realize how beautiful the sky looks and feels as you tumble through it
how the ground curves and buckles like a wrinkled tapestry
the mattress rises to meet you and you realise
one does not need to fall to appreciate the clouds
and the ground does not cease to exist once you’re used to it.
All earthly salvation is temporary
and if time is money, we’re all broke anyways so why not spend it
merely existing
Because it’s easy to hear the growl of engines on the highway
but not to sympathize with a tree or notice the faint lattice of veins beneath the delicate skin of stones and concrete
to realize that being
is quite peaceful
if you can let it.

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