static air

I woke fast like someone poked me with some electicity wires, hot and thirsty and unsure why I had been sleeping. My window was open. Warm wind was looping and circling my room, stirring the windchimes and branches outside.

Birds were singing sweet and earnest and with urgency. I could hear planes and traffic rumble,
the sun dipped in and out sending pale golden bursts through dark cloud. The air smelt heavy like jasmine and low pressure weather systems and that old feeling beat through me as I lay there, as though someone was shaking my shoulders and telling me 'wake up wake up! Tie your laces and jump in the car and go go go be alive!'; the tumbled sea feeling and the coffee in the square feeling and the motorway service station feeling and evening chinese food smell town feeling, the feeling of running and of time falling and slipping. Wake up wake up, you've been sleeping for weeks, months! you can sleep when you're dead, you can think when
you're dying, go go go don't stop except to look. But i know that when the air clears and the skies spin over the hills and the steely blues and static energy all pass, I will slide back into sleep again; in fact I can feel myself doing so right this moment.