She closed her eyes to take that jump into the pool of meditation. It was her addiction that not only comforted her, but also took her to the valley of strangers where she had no expectations. That was always pleasant. But on the other hand, her thoughts caged her with the fear of loss. Certainty could come and jolt her anytime. The wing of ideation always took her to the flight of dreams. If you build a castle out of sand, would you rather let the waves destroy it or do that on your own? She did ponder upon. Yet the waves became a friend that she entrusted, not herself.
She did want to capture those waves in her words, but their lucidity always escaped her ink.
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