At first I was doubtful, though it happened so effortlessly in recurring dreams. But I thought: How hard could it be. And the way the wind pulled and tugged and flitted me - I had an inkling. So under the pale orange electric lights - I think it must have been dusk, Friday evening, the streets peopled with curiosity, and small minds - here I began. I was indeed floating. I passed the mad dogs, the cursing housewives, drunken men looking for a fight. People Nursing their frail superiority. Dying where they began. I astonished myself. I…upright, my feet far off the ground.

Floating (via sirmorose)