What we contain, and what we do not.
I have to tackle this chronologically. It’s too easy for us to get lost in the notion that there is anything more than time that connects us, ultimately. So, to begin, I stretched out over the concrete block and stared up at the sky. That place, where, at times, I can neither see nor hear anything of the human world. The waves, birdsong, my dogs playing. That is the soundtrack. In that absence of the human world, there is a stillness that I often do not know what to do with. It brings on nausea and a little lightheadedness. I count my breaths and try not to get wrapped up in the idea that there is something to release, although I am sure there is. In a clear blue sky, I can see so many markings on the lenses of my eyes. I wonder for a moment if these will eventually lead to blindness. I also find a little peace in the fact that, at almost forty, I am beginning a physical decline, and that is something that I must find peace with. Whilst the dogs are playing my mind reminds me that the