I faced death. I went in with my arms swinging. But I heard my own breath and had to face that I'm still living. I'm still flesh. I hold on to awful feelings. I'm not dead... My chest still draws breath. I hold it. I'm buoyant. There's no end.
-- Every now and then I fall out into open air just to feel the wind, rain and everything. And though the hum and sway gets me down, I'll find the way to peace and openness.