Newton's law states that an object in motion will remain in motion. About two years ago I was propelled into motion myself and I am still flying.
There is so little time in my current life to sit in a quiet room and think. I miss having that. Being able to listen to myself breathe, to hear the echo of my internal thoughts and write them down.
My dreams used to be long narrations. My subconscious telling me stories. Poetry used to flow, boundless and never ending. That has all dried up. My art is gone, and with out that part of me I don't feel...settled. My motion is taking me faster and faster away from where I thought I was going. And it's so finite.
Sometimes I think I catch a sight of my other self, who I could have been.
It is quiet there.
