>Breaths and Blogs

>Slow down there, tiger, catch your breath. Breeaaathhhheeee. The room will stop tracing concentric circles around your head and before you know it your feet will touch the ground again. Hands on clocks around you will restart their ticking in a moment. The breeze against your face will again be cool.

But nonetheless, quiet yourself. Hold this moment in suspension for a second and drink deep the magical elixir tumbling over all of those jagged edges of your life before pressing "play" again, because you will thirst for it sooner than you realize. Keep a taste of it on a shelf in your brain where you store the things you are not to forget. Remember how your stomach turns, how your mind wanders, how every facet of your reason questions what exactly you are doing and how logic attempts to take control or talk you down from the perch to which you have floated.

I tell you this because unless you make the conscious decision to file the feeling away, it will pass you by and return only when you are convinced it is the last thing on earth you could need. It will catch you with your guard down and remind you that everything you once thought you had figured out has been proven incontrovertibly wrong as you fumble for things as simple as breaths. Or words... and yet you will keep breathing. And writing.

And both your breaths and blogs will be short.

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.