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.