Too surreal I don’t really feel it?
On my end,
letting go brings moments of breathlessness; both kinds:
A slap to the face, the winds here.
Cooling. Cold. A new pressure builds
my (in)dependence : salt and pepper is really all I need.
Filing taxes, budget receipts, lost on campus, instalment debits, microwave meals, visa permits, and isolation.
I miss my (dead) hamster.
Some days I just can’t adult.