Shallow

Not being alive then? How does that feel? Numb, empty, hollow. Limp. There is resistance, so much resistance that it disappears altogether. You're floating. Standing still. Air is still. Breathing shallow, eyes fixed on one point. Keeping them open so determinedly that the world becomes closed off, darkened, non-existent.

You have to relax. Tensing will only wake you up. Hearing will make you jump. Seeing will make you groan. Just relax, breathe shallow, don't look, don't notice how your body aches from staying still. The time disappears. Blessed stillness of the universe. Nothing will happen. Nothing will change.

It is another form of existence. Funny. How you used to crave that, really. Go chasing after it. Perhaps it's easy to bear just because of that; it is another experience. Another lifetime. Another person. To encounter. To embody. To understand. To examine.

What utter bullshit that is! Remembering to relax again now. To not care. You become so skilled in that so quickly. So fast it is scary. Impossible to go back. That's how it seems. Utterly impossible. Never again. Breathe shallow. Don't blink. Don't move. Just relax. Nothing will happen. Nothing will hurt.