A letter to the infinite
Dear infinite,
There are things that exist in me that I wish didn't. This longing for thin air, the air I breathe in fact, something I can't see but need to survive. Constantly needing a new breath, holding onto it as long as I can before I must exhale. I try to relax my belly to allow the air to fill me with kindness and calm, but most of the time I walk around with my gut sucked in out of blind habit.
If I stop breathing, I'm dead. My organs will shut down and eventually the rest of me will too. So I must. I must breathe in order to live, to love, in this life.
But sometimes the air tastes dirty, thick with city smog and sometimes smoke. I do this on purpose, knowing I am harming my lungs, but again, it's out of blind habit.
If I could filter you, I would. I so would. I would pick and choose the air I breathe so that I may find a place inside of myself that is constantly in a state of calm. A state of peace.
I could travel into the woods, to the mountains, to the ocean, just to get a clean breath. I could walk around with a mask on my face but I too would be hiding, just like the rest of us.
So instead I settle with this smoggy city air, because I have to make do, because I have no choice.
I must breathe in order to survive.
A clean breath exists in moments, sometimes days, sometimes years if you're lucky. My lungs turn black. My gut swells with rage and I fade into the background where I'm used to being seen.
But don't be afraid, this is just a breath I needed to get out.
Half Moon Run,
Katie
There are things that exist in me that I wish didn't. This longing for thin air, the air I breathe in fact, something I can't see but need to survive. Constantly needing a new breath, holding onto it as long as I can before I must exhale. I try to relax my belly to allow the air to fill me with kindness and calm, but most of the time I walk around with my gut sucked in out of blind habit.
If I stop breathing, I'm dead. My organs will shut down and eventually the rest of me will too. So I must. I must breathe in order to live, to love, in this life.
But sometimes the air tastes dirty, thick with city smog and sometimes smoke. I do this on purpose, knowing I am harming my lungs, but again, it's out of blind habit.
If I could filter you, I would. I so would. I would pick and choose the air I breathe so that I may find a place inside of myself that is constantly in a state of calm. A state of peace.
I could travel into the woods, to the mountains, to the ocean, just to get a clean breath. I could walk around with a mask on my face but I too would be hiding, just like the rest of us.
So instead I settle with this smoggy city air, because I have to make do, because I have no choice.
I must breathe in order to survive.
A clean breath exists in moments, sometimes days, sometimes years if you're lucky. My lungs turn black. My gut swells with rage and I fade into the background where I'm used to being seen.
But don't be afraid, this is just a breath I needed to get out.
Half Moon Run,
Katie
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