slow


I recently read a piece of fiction about the slowing rotation of the earth. Last night’s dream played on this theme.

I was sherpa-ing a group of Tibetan men through NYC. Donned with backpacks filled with outdoor gear, walking sticks and bandannas, we set out through the gritty, grimy streets of Manhattan (somewhat reminiscent of pile from back in the day). As an ominous darkness fell over us, the oldest traveler looked up from his path and said: “It has begun.” I gazed around the city that had already begun to fall and a slow panic started to bubble in my stomach.

I woke up anxious.

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About sweetdreamscrazy

I'm a spectacular generalist. I sail, ski, take photos, adore animals, write (more than just nonsense), can ramble on and on about whisky, read comics, paint and sit around and do nothing. More will be added to this list. Including people. I'm slowly overcoming my fear behind the lens.
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