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Where I came from, it was easy to dream. What is thoughtfulness? Thoughts were spewed out thoughtlessly, we didn’t think it could work any other way. We let them roam free, assuming positions where our bodies couldn’t go. No corner was too little or too tricky for our thoughts to occupy. Like air, they left no trace while dancing in the vacuum, penetrating the silence. It was always lukewarm. Each moment liberated with newness, stamped differently from one second to the next.

When I think about this kind of warmth, I miss it. I don’t remember when exactly it happened, but it started happening. A transition is hard to make out of the gray area, although on the spectrum it’s the only color other than black and white. I don’t remember, but I know it must have started somewhere, the process. It was when feelings turned into a dirty word, because it’s primitive, it involves the reptilian part of your brain, everybody can do it. Since when did everyone want to be special? On average, we are so mediocre.

What do I think of freedom, I value it so much. But it doesn’t stir me away from having the desire to belong, desire to possess and when it comes to human connections, it means being possessed too. I want depth. Breadth seems more practical, useful, beneficial, but in long term I know the waters I have to wade through are gonna be deep. I am going for a dive, Mom. When the stream of consciousness washes ashore, I don’t want to spend my whole hours staring at the sun taking a pastel pink plunge, before rising out of the horizon in all its blue, glorious. You look at the sunset already worrying that you’ll miss the sunrise.