that first tip-off, the wobble. the first thing that goes wrong in the day, and then you roll, and something else happens and you pick up speed… Disappointments and sadnesses on an unstoppable roll. Eventually you and your mood are plummeting to your deaths having found yourself rolling right off a cliff.
then there is the flying. but we never talk about that. because the presumption is we will fill our time screaming and panicking. But what if we drift? What if that is the moment of new things? when we are in mid-fall? The weird things you think, the colors you see when your eyes are closed. (or open) There are those times, when moods like this, things like this, lead to new and wild choices. footsteps in places no one has ever been.
know what i mean?