I fall from the clouds. I fall endlessly towards the ground. My body is
fragile, I can feel it in my core. I can break from the slightest touch and I’m
falling.
I was dropped from the clouds, just a single drop amongst the millions.
I’m so insignificant, yet I’m not, I’m sure I’m not because I can feel myself and
I know I’m alive. But I also know this is my first and last journey.
Born in the clouds one second and dropped without hesitation in the
next, that is the meaning of my life. I have no say in anything. I just fall.
I freefall through the air, together with the millions just like me.
They’re just like me but I know I’m different. I can feel it. I can feel it like I feel
the pressure beneath me and the cold air above me. I can feel it by the
lightness of my own weight and the heaviness of my descent. I am different. I
am special.
Suddenly the wind catches me and pushed by the wind I dance; beautifully
and gracefully my body moves in its cold embrace. For a while it holds me
close, and I feel its existence with my own. I happily enjoy the soundless
melody of my first romance as well as my last.
When the wind lets me go I plummet, the whistling air sings to me as if
to comfort me. I am not sad I sing
back. This is the meaning of my life. I was created to tumble through this
world – through this sky. If death is failure then I cannot die because I was
made to break.
The sounds of the city grasp me and I know that I’m getting closer to
my destination. The air around me grows warmer as the body heat from the living
beings engulf me. I am close, so very close.
I hear children, laughing and shouting; they must be playing in the
rain. Listening to them I feel satiated. My presence has given them joy, my
fragile body has become their playground. Ah,
I feel, this must be the true meaning
of my life.
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