|Taken by May Khaled AlOtaibi|
The phrase "Drift away" has been wandering around my brain for days. I woke up once to find it the first thing making its way into my consciousness. It strolls down its alleys before I notice. Hence came this post. To, perhaps, explain, reassure, or simply denote its presence in writing.
When a piece of wood is thrown into the sea, it drifts away. It slowly rides the waters, the ultimate connecter, into another place. A further away one. Gradually.
Made out of mud; sand and and water. Feasting on air. Drifting away from oneself or from another tree rooted on shore. People seem to be trees of some sort; pieces of wood.
Drifting away is a solo performance thought, falsely, to be orchestrated. That's the thing about it. While believing the water in between links you still, one, too late, realizes nothing is.