No Adventure Time

I want to be on top of a mountain
I want to drift on the ocean
I want to dig naked toes in sand
I want to slide down a slope on my bum

I want to jump into the ice-cold sea
without my steamer
I want to camp wild
hot coffee without creamer

I want to fight my way uphill
I want rain in my face and wind in my hair
I want to cycle through overgrown woods
I want to race downhill on my bike
I want to smell pine resin
I want to smell petrichor

I want to hear the silences
The silence of the ocean
The silence of the forest
The silence of bare feet on grass
The silence of the wind

I want to breathe in freedom


Meandering Mind

My mind tumbles through the silence
The only noise
Wind
No cars
No planes

Even the birds are resting
Is everyone taken lunch time naps now?
Not even a lawn-mower
Which so viciously
Cut through the silence on Sunday

I had four coffees already
Yet tiredness becomes impossible to fight
Shall I sleep
Or do my one-a-day
Go out
Get moving
Keep moving

Keep living

Where did this come from
The living
Thing
Is movement life?
Is resting non-life?

Limbo
Life on hold?

What’s wrong with a nap anyway?

A car cuts through the silence after all
But wind swallowed the noise
And is taking over
The roof beams creak
Quietly though
As if aching with age
But trying to hide it

I should wash my face
And then let the wind
Blow away the cobwebs
Of my meandering mind

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