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| 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.
