Some Idle Sunday

I sit in front of my computer, overwhelm by a sense of lightness, everything inside of me feels like glowing its way to the stars and beyond. I’m taken. Breathing is like being complete and empty at the same time, in spaces of time; yes… no… and then again… and there it goes…
This is the kind of feeling drug addicts want to have by consuming, its sweet to get it for free. Nothing goes wrong, not until you wake up, but still the fall is much ,much lighter than any other way of flying could allow you to.
There is nothing special of it, no specific way to get there and no way to hold it for a longer ride when it decides to leave; suddenly, your skin is there again and you are no longer one with the greatness that had, just moments ago, caught you in its arms.
So when it comes, when you feel it arrives, just close your eyes and let the fall take you in, turn you over, let it touch you where no has, the way you always wanted it to.
Its like those times on a Sunday morning when you wake up and the sun is going through the cracks of your window warming bits of skin, tracing a path of floating dust across the room. Its swinging to the drums of a song, the tempos drawn in your mind moving all of you. Its feeling sexy. Its being weightless.
Its like driving in an empty street, with your friends singing at the top of their lungs the perfect song to sing in that moment. It’s the coming together of senses, of spiritual and physical, body and mind and soul, its being real, and feeling alive. Knowing that it ends, but that for a moment, everything can be solve and it all comes down to being good. Its listening to the planets and moving the stars, and burning your corneas for looking at the sun and dancing in the rain and letting the sun dry your tears.
Its laying in the cold just for the sake of it. Its waking barefoot on the warm floor, its resting your head on a pillow, its listening to a heart beat tell you the story of a life time.
Its being awake.