It would appear that I’ve gained an ability, as if I completed a task successfully and was given a reward. A gift so foreign to me that my tear ducts swell in relief so inexplicable.
That moment, the one in which those metaphorical hands inside of your core that bind tightly to hold everything together, to stand structured and erect. That moment where you feel them losing grip and panic takes hold as they scramble to regain what they had. That moment where you lose the control, the control that was so well looked-after you misplaced those thoughts that told you it took effort. Fog is rolling in, the blood passing your eardrums turn to static, malnourished, decrepit, feeble.
It lasted but a few moments, and then the miracles took place. I can not lose what was never mine, I can not fear what I already know, I can not move backward when I am already so far ahead. I’ve seen this before, I’ve lived it and know how the plot concludes.
And now I weep, how laughable it’s all become - so meaningful in consequence, so meaningless in retrospect.
My territory is gone, I am not significant, I am not dying, I can not sleep.
I never had any of those things to begin with, I’ve lost nothing.
Nothing has changed but my perspective, I’ve gained everything.
I am a colossal being.
I am all that I am.