I've been drowning somewhere in outer space over the last few days. Everything is upside down, there is no gravity, no solid ground, nothing to hold on to.
My mind is a million miles of solitude and silence. I try to speak but there is no air. I choke on my thoughts.
Out there in the distance, I can see Earth. I see thousands of years pass by in the snap of my fingers. My life began yesterday and will end tomorrow.
I want to experience all of the lives. I want to see every sunset, in every country. I want to kiss the mouths of a million different lovers, have ten thousand marriages, raise a billion different children, never have children, never marry. I want to experience hundreds of different careers and try on endless personalities.
I want to call the snow-capped peaks of Alaska home, the urban parks of Mexico City, the beaches of Bali, the cafes of Seoul, the alleys of Rio de Janeiro, the valleys of Tanzania.
I want to be black, and white, and caramel. I want to be a petty street criminal, a Jewish businessman, a small-town Christian teenager, a Persian grandmother, a little boy who dreams of growing up to be a fireman.
I want to be everything, forever.
I can't. I can't. I can't and I don't want to choose, and I have to choose, and I'm stuck in the waiting room trying to choose just one life but I'm not a one life kind of person and I don't know if I can force myself to be.
I choke on my thoughts. I am lost in space. I was born yesterday, and tomorrow I will be dead.