StOrm

I’m up and I’m scrambling. I’m up and trying to make sense of this. This ocean of dizziness. Nothing makes sense yet. Am I up? What am I up from? What am I up t-

You’re losing the plot get up. Open your eyes, focus. If you fall now you’ll be gone for hours. Or days. Or months. You’ll be gone again into that place. That dark and dizzying place where the world happens to you. You’ll become a spectator in your own life. A victim of inaction. The splinters of your life are scattered far. Your dreams made dust. Dreams. You used to live those. You believed in yourself. You had a plan and a goal. You were a runaway train. Lightning that left the bottle.

Is this how shooting stars die?

Get up. You do not drown here. I’m up. I will not drown here. In this ocean of dizziness, this deluge of adversity, I make a ship of my body. This ship is built for this. These seas know my name. They never stop calling it. They’ve drowned millions. These seafloor is a graveyard of forgotten dreams. Its body is salty with unrealized ambition. I will not feed it.

I am borne on it. I am born. Here. I’m up and I can hear myself think. I’m up and the sea is raging. I’m up and I am raging. The storm in me will humble this sea.

This ship -this body- will take me anywhere I want to go. I’m up. I’m ready to go now.