Edge of the World

I feel endless, eternal. I’m at the edge of the world.


2. Part 2/2

I’m stuck in an es. In an air pocket of atmosphere.

The pen seems so bizarrely light against the lines.

I cannot let go of this of this calm, of this peace filling my being, my soul. I feel strangely at home.

I feel endless, eternal. Like the horizon where the clouds meets the blue sky. Earth meets the atmosphere. I feel eternal, forever fascinated, inspired.

But never could I put the right words to this spec in time and place. I can try and try, ‘till the day I die. But some sceneries exist for only that spec and is to never be recreated. I try to at least capture a tiny fraction of this. This peace is captivating. But vibe and time is slowly fading.

If this is what death feels like, I’m not afraid to die.

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