It’s like grabbing a cloud in your hand, opening it up, and discovering it was never there.
It’s like taking the subway, getting off at random, and making your way back home on foot.
It’s like swimming in space, where the stars are up and down and left and right, or is it the other way around?
It’s like shouting into an endless abyss, and waiting for the echo.
It’s like remembering you exist as if for the first time. No how. Or why.
It’s like forgetting everything at once; like being naked and alone in a forest.
It’s like being haunted by dreams, imaginary friends; like being schizophrenic and bipolar, and having a party.
It’s like God, for a moment, conducted into your massively idiotic fingers; like Prometheus stealing fire and giving it to you, by mistake.
It’s like Death shutting the fuck up for a moment, and just watching.
It’s transcendence triumphing over biology, some 4 billion years later.
It’s what words fail to describe, and what they do at their best.
It’s what it is to be.