Breathe

Breathing is ephemeral. I find the act of breathing interesting. During the inhale and exhale of breathing, many noteworthy events can occur, but at the same time nothing can happen. A breath of air is in essence useless, but it carries life.

In an effort to catch my thoughts, to translate the impulses of axons into words, I decided to hold my breath. I thought if I can freeze this moment, if I can stop in the middle of the journey, I’ll be able to collect my thoughts, to reach a conclusion.

Sadly, my lungs cannot stop the unavoidable and I have to take a breath. If I had to get my point across, if I had to convey the complexity of my thoughts I would have to be concise. But my thoughts race too fast for my fingers to keep up; they’re always turning a sharp corner, chasing an obscure tangent thought.

But it’s still not enough and any second my lungs will give in. I’ll finish the journey, a little bit closer to the end of the thought maze but never finishing. And just when I exhale, I’ll be wishing for another breath. I’ll be wishing to hold on a little longer so I can get closer to the end of that thought. (via)