The Middle
I am disappointed by breath’s behavior.
He was just another thief.
The breathing is always there.
It does not switch off.
That is the first case.
It has a movement.
That is the second case.
I have a choice to watch it or not.
That is the third case.
If I watch it, it moves me too.
That’s the self-slap.
I am homeless again.
I am going back to the place where I have no home.
I close my eyes.
I do a sanity check:
The switch is there.
The Dark is there.
The thinking is there.
The breath is there.
I have control and access to thinking and breath.
But I feel the slap when I go there.
Nobody other than me can make me move myself.
I am bored.
I am going to look for a new home for my freedom.
Breath taught me something:
If it moves, it will move me too.
Now I am looking for something immobile.
When I am homeless, I am more vulnerable.
The Dark and the thinking are attacking me.
I go back to the best of the worst.
I go to breathing.
Can I get off the horse?
I am watching the breath.
He is going out, coming back in.
I feel like I am on a horse.
I want to get off his horse.
I am looking for something on my travel path.
I pick the bottom spot on the line between the nostrils.
Not outside.
Not inside.
Not left side.
Not right side.
In the middle.
I settle there.
It gives me what breathing provides: safety from Dark and thinking.
It saves me from what breathing steals: my freedom.
I do not want to slap myself.
I want to take full responsibility for my freedom.
I fit my big ideals into that small spot.
I check other body parts, but they do not provide the same safety.
Breathing is like a rope, but I am still in the water.
It is better than sky, but worse than land.
I am more suspicious than ever.
After my experiences,
with Dark,
with thinking,
with breathing.
Will this spot also betray me?
My old friends try to pull me out of my new home.
They are successful, but I have no interest in them.
I put my investment back into that small spot,
Where I have total freedom and safety.
Whenever I get a chance, I return there.
My new home is tiny.
I cannot sit there for long.
I am pulled out too easily.
Still, I do not fight the others.
I keep coming back home,
Where I have total freedom and safety.
Will I be invited to slap myself again?
Will I slap myself again?
Will I have to move out again?
I am opening my eyes, again.