From a Notebook Lost – The Same and The Other 79
And I was lost to the world. My eyes saw past. And it was here that I cam to. As if the waves rushed the shore to consume the sand, drowning all in its devouring wake. It was a deadly trick, a maneuver to see, in a tree one climbed to be overhead. As if sand carried hence? But the battle of wills is one of the wind.
I am as a whirlwind. Quickness becomes cut in my stand. I lean upon rocks as the earth shifts beneath my weight.
This wrongness overcomes my meager sensibilities, and I become as Oedipus, stark, bare. We lie naked upon these tufts, as the chaff blows gently by on a wind that only spring can bring. This freshness of dew, the smell of rain, fluidity I breathe as I drown. Large gulps gasping as I choke in ecstasy. It was all quite striking. My erectness perceives the light. My eyes drown to the desire of my loins. The shin spoke to me as a god with beams in my eyes. The nose spoke only faintly. Cautious.
A glint captured my eye, and my sight was taken from me. I took possession of basic senses. I could drown no longer, and I fell.