in lieu of an alternate reality

the thrill of the rising tide
as it slowly nears outstretched toes
legs dangle from the roughly textured rock
waiting for the surge that submerges
beyond anxious ankles the chill of the water cannot be endured
the brief sting delights
a strange icy numbness in the heat of the afternoon sun.

there are moments, brief and almost unbearable, when reality is better than the alternative. we drink, we get high, we take pills... all in search of an alternate reality. what is isn't enough, we seek to trump it with a state of being that is false and temporarily thrilling.

the only truly thrilling thing is finding moments in our existence when the alternative reality seems least appealing. where we don't need any stimulation besides what is simply there.

watching the pull of the rising tide, warm sun on your face, an approaching thunderstorm, the moment you find out someone loves you... the moment you realize you love them back... the list is endless and unbiased

sometimes these moments are more brief than a high, but they can feel like an eternity- for they are outside of time. when we encounter heightened sensation by purely natural means, the experience is more intense than any high, and the memory far outlasts that of any other.

in these moments, time is forgotten.

[to love is to be outside of time.]