Breathing is such a normal thing, we are so accustomed to it that we do
not even realise how important it is till we cannot breath anymore, till our
cardiac sensors tell us our blood is not getting enough oxygen, then we panic
we try sucking any little bit of air little bit of life into us.
It is funny how, it feels for me, when a storm rages outside. I can feel
it holding me down, a soft pillow of air on my chest. It would not go in but it
is there holding me tight holding me from breathing. Every ounce of oxygen is
hard to get by, every time I force my body to breath. Sharp blades start
inserting themselves into my chest. The pain makes me cringe, trash around but
then, when the storm passes and that blanket is lifted.
The freedom to breath, to freedom to take in air as I, I become alive, I
become able to do what I wish when I wish how I wish. That is freedom, for me
it is the ability to breathe the very air that is right next to me.
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