some days.
A monstrous ocean comes after you with a single wave, roaring itself hoarse, violent and icy. It never reaches you entirely, it never invades you all the way. Even though it keeps moving closer, you never move away. You are paralyzed by terror and anticipation. Somehow you know: if ever this wave actually covers you, it would not trample you completely. Instead, it would push you into tunnels of everlasting energy. You would lose the ability to rest.
Your apprehension of the threat from this ugly ocean, it covers you with its power and inevitability. Some days the wave is colder than other days. It is icier and longer lasting. Its presence is global and non-climatic.

I want to stop remembering. crazier. icier. colder. breatharrest. I am not tired. I cannot (will not) rest.

and then you throw yourself into searches. and then you push yourself off the ground over and over and over. watching with your heart through the closed eyelids. open the eyelids. shut them open. nothing changes. icy water dripping from your eyelashes. dry sand, ocean foam, and blood around your mouth. sickness to your vegetarian stomach. the sky darkens.

and then I throw myself back into searches.

anything. one word. one word. and then oh look here it is I see it how incredible. steam all over my insides. hot and burning. it kills me. as anything would if there is too much of it after nothing at all. a loaf of bread would kill you if you starved for weeks. one word kills me over and over.

I should never come back searching. so I will not.

And I never do.
not until the next time