Being

What does it mean to be a human? Why don’t I feel like I really exist even when I’m breathing? I restlessly toss and turn with this question, in this feeling. I want to feel the air in my nostrils when I breathe. When I exhale I want to feel my body tire in a way that it feels complete. I want to feel my heart pounding within my chest, And I want to hear it beating in a slowed down track so its voice isn’t suppressed. I want to see the light scatter in my iris when I’m crying, And I’m crying because at that moment I see the world as it is, as I’m eyeing . I want my sight to darken into blackness for a moment when I blink, And only see the world without making deductive inferences, without having thoughts to think.

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