From my old blog

[quiregrrl]

Last night I dreamt again that I could fly... my wings were dark and membranous, like those of a bat, and I could feel the fluid strength of muscle bone and sinew as i spread my wings and beat them down while jumping from the ground, wings beating smoothly and lifting me higher and higher, out of my life and mundanity. The higher I flew, the more peace my soul found, until I was gliding effortlessly on currents of air, sailing high above the world with arms outstretched, the wind in my face and sun warm on my back, untouched and untouchable. It felt how I imagined life would be when I was young and couldn't wait to grow up, before I lost my wings and succumbed to gravity. Now, when I dream of flying and feel that exhilarating and unbearable bliss of the wind on my face and the earth rotating below me, it feels like dying... seductive and tempting.