He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who watch.

The days are getting lighter and my cloud is one of the few ones in the sky. I am not bound to the physical realm, as you know. Willingly, I share your burden as humans though, sometimes. It is in these times that I try to dare to leap. Where to? I am not so sure myself these weeks. But it surely feels like remaining (calmly) in a state of falling.

Will the landing be soft? I am not sure, I guess it depends on what happens in a void. Is there any landing at all? A truly philosophical discussion may start here. So what do I do? There’s just the option to stay in the same position, adapt to the wind, making tiny adjustments. There’s nothing much more that you can do in the fall.

So this week all that you can hear is my skin fluttering in the wind, loose flaps of my coat making noises as if they were suffering. I can assure you, they are not.

Maybe you are looking down, seeing me become smaller and smaller. Maybe you’ve found your own void. I’d certainly recommend it for a bit.

It’s quiet in here.

Sometimes all it takes is something else in front of you.

I have been roaming galleries, a new obsession with squeaking floorboards, silent whispers and perfectly humidified rooms. I am joking of course. Real pleasure lies in looking at the walls. They are decorated with pictures that someone painted for you to see, ideally sparking interest in observers for eternity. Very ambitious if you ask me. Some of them haven’t even seen their fame bloom to full extent, how tragic.

While I roam the gigantic rooms that leave plenty of space for your thoughts, I am beginning to seclude myself. I dive into contemplation, escaping from physical into the spiritual. The mind is occupied and the body rests.

My eyes rest on the colours and shapes and I wonder how many others have thought the same way about this canvas. I sit down, nay, I float in front of it. Cross-legged I have managed to escape burdens, at least I think I did.

I return outside, cold wind reminds me of reality. The real world isn’t perfectly humidified.

I escaped for a moment. But what’s it worth if nobody knows?

So here I am, telling you. About my great escape.

The music is off but I nod. The beat is intrinsic and not visible from the outside.

Whatever my environment dances to, I am unaware of. I nod along to the internal combustion of bass.

I am resilient, protected by 180 BPM.

So I am sorry, I can’t hear you right now. I am nodding.

Take cover!!

There’s a lot of things happening, too much some might say. And you know what, I tend to agree. The struggles of modern day life are manifold and even open up new avenues, offering to help with these struggles.

There is guides on meditation, on nutrition, new ways to improve every aspect of life. Books, based on ancient philosophy, making it digestible for the modern human. Because who has the time to interpret M. Aurelius and apply it to the 21st century?

Okay, maybe there’s some.

Like a bird feeding, these contents are pre-chewed and spit into the mouth. It’s just more convenient that way.

I am offering a different alternative. Why not just disassociate in peace for a while and take cover? You can of course cover yourself with cloth, but how about covering with imagination?

How does a slice of cheese feel, covered in two pieces of bread? How does the raisin feel, baked into deliciousness? How does the sky feel in winter, not being naked but finally decently dressed with clouds?

Dissipate, disassociate and be covered. Just for a moment.