I wasn't here, but I wasn't there either. I wasn't anywhere my body was. The ethereal me was floating, watching, feeling deep pangs of every emotion known to man. I was exploding with them, their ashes burning holes into the place that claims to be my heart. Not the one that beats in my human chest, but the one that remains with me, even when I fly away, in a dream or into the depths of my waking mind. Never aimless, but unsure nonetheless of my direction, if there is such a thing. It's a wonder I don't disappear into the vastness that surrounds me, warm and humming with vibrations that emanate from the center of a hole from which it all originates. Time ceases to exist as we know it, and with the release of that pressure comes only bliss. Everything as it is is as it should be, and will always be. I am awash with understanding on levels previously unreached, and in this state of total faith, I let go. Aaaah, I exhale a phantom breath and bask in an infinite shower of love and light. I am not asleep. I am not awake. I do not exist as myself, an individual, but as something incomprehensibly greater. If I could cry, I would, out of pure ecstasy and for the immensity of my gratitude for this experience. I float like this for what may be seconds or even days, measured in Earthly terms, knowing the imprint that it leaves in the valleys of my soul are eternal.
Chicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird.