Altitude Sickness

People have described it as "being splashed with cold water" or having your heart "turned to ash".

Cold water, by its description, is obviously cold and ash tends to be slight in mass, but I don't feel any change in temperature - what I feel is only a dragging weight and a sense of fatigue.

I know, I know, such descriptions are only metaphors and merely symbolic in nature. What I've written is purely 'lame', but that's a point in itself: what I've written before, what I've done before, who knows whether they are 'lame' or not, or whether they matter?

What matters? I'm still searching for that something I need. A little lost, rather directionally-handicapped, quite helpless and very much clueless but that's life. No silver or golden spoon but it's not as if I'm going around demanding for one as if it's my right. Some direction and hints will be nice, since I'm rather 'thick' in picking up such things.

It will also be nice if my works don't end up like grisly remains in some catacomb, reduced to fading notes on yellowing paper entombed in some file cabinet, unheard, unplayed, silent and forgotten.

But I digress. I have been told that at a certain elevation above sea level, the exact figure I can't recall, you need like 7 breaths before you have enough oxygen to take one step. And like a person who took many steps at that elevation without the requisite number of breaths - actually it was more like running than just taking steps - I feel more like out of breath and exhausted than cold.

In the end, I only have myself to blame for not taking things easier. Enthusiasm has momentum and with momentum comes inertia. Had I taken things at a slower pace I wouldn't have felt the yank that sent me plummeting down.

One step at a time, with the appropriate number of breaths.

Silly, old me.

DreamCatcher