The first breath apogee, spontaneously arriving with gags and gasps. Breath, smoothing urgently relaxed, transitions from the amnionic to the gaseous fluid. Nearly immediately consciousness is lost in the forgotten present of always and integrally automatic. Like a metronome bellows rhythmically swelling, absorbing the molecular gas mass in which the animal swims. Each cardiovascular miracle enterprise proceeds joining inner and outer atmospheres with a contingency. Fate, a furrow, finds passive arrival expectations. What do you have to breathe? I want to wander the landscapes of fine fine promise. Enduring the collapse of birthright innocence. I do believe I may be choking!
Core outbreak peak disease symptoms rage and rise under the fire horizon. Each scale of mercy rains down it’s own mystery. Like what made the blue heaven? What of the wandering, so called cloud, drapery? Sunlight shining through disfigured prisms of alkaloid metal shades of dispersed nano chaff. Suspicion’s mind opens to what the eyes see only in the fractured disaster of metallic tinting to a passing cloud’s transparency, but not in the incendiary breathable dope dust that is prevailing, descending, and surrounding us everywhere. There is no more glossing over the permanency of the atmospheric contamination status. I want to exhale toxins, not inhale them.
Life’s choices forever abound; or do they? After having spent all this time being herded into a belief coral of complacency and conformity, honest evaluation of basic life needs is in jeopardy. An ultra-fundamental basic is that the air is safe to breath. The terms of this discourse are barely describable or discussable. The mind, nor temperament can tolerate the topic of the unthinkable…. the unbreathable. Now the jet plane plumes, the fallout clouds, and the total mistrust of any “official” assurance of safe/unsafe levels of anything combine to motivate the creature me to reinvent myself. With each breath distancing from the first one, each inhalation, which the whole life process depends, extends closer to the last one. Wether the termination of this incarnation come sudden or slow, it feels mad important to make them count in the good of transformation from the increasingly toxic to the progressively pure. The sacrifice will pale in the light of the penalty for not exercising the effort to harken a most basic, and fundamental, shift. Shift from the inorganic to the natural. Resume, restore, and aspirate what evolution had manifested as a breathable atmosphere pillowing Mother Earth. Depart the miasmic, and draining, technologic world for the ebullient natural one. There is no doubt that the transgressing “progress”of the modern world has lost any form of credibility, and the re-evaluted personal contract with Creation is the code. To the modern world, “Thanks for the lesson on what to do if I want suffocation and disease.” Now, mindfully aware that the term of choice and chance is limited, and who knows how short, I’ll be thankful for that of the air which still supports life, return it with favor, and keep it happening until the last breath.