Sparrowfish HQ

You feel atomic, dangerous. Like your particles are near to leaping off you and bouncing around in the air. You’re ungraspable, unidentifiable and have the potential to conduct, react, combust. But you don’t, you just keep going. And people are attracted, magnetised to you, or repelled. You walk on, through the parted crowds, among the adoring and the appalled. Not knowing what you are, but becoming aware of your power.

Speaking of atomic, she’s positively radioactive right now. You can’t quell the nuclear storm now any more than they could then. Standing further away and with a safer vantage point, you know you should not get involved. You will all react with each other and it will get fiery. And you are not the one who can help her. She needs to help herself.

If you could see people in terms of their energy, most people would appear in similar form and size as their physical selves. Lately, she’s grown bigger and more spaced out. Sometimes that anxiety emanating from her is so palpable that she’s escaped her form all together and is near to filling the room. The alarm bells are ringing in their sort of supersonic way, like tinnitus but it has also escaped your head. It’s in the room with us, cutting between us, making all other signals bad. It’s similar to the way she and he used to fill the house when you were younger with their fighting. But back then their energies made the air so thick you would feel like you needed a machete to cut through it, to find pockets of air for breathing, and space for your pointless protests which, despite their futility, still wanted to fight their way out of you and hash a pathway through that thickness to a door, any door, for escape.

So In that sense, yes you’ve been drowning. You’ve been going under the breakers all your life, sometimes with confidence and the courage to catch a wave back to solid ground. Other times though, you’ve been dragged into the undertow. Occasionally you’ve even gone willingly into the churning black current, bobbing there for a while, flirting with danger and insanity, making yourself heavy and taking a trip down there in the blackness.

You’ve met some friends in those breathless spaces. Got lost in time with them as you bunker down in the refuge of deep water. Knowing it can’t last or if it does that you won’t survive it, but needing that vacuum to let out our voiceless cries of childhood, the tears and humiliations that were never seen or heard in the surfaced world. We found each other in that anaerobic murkiness. We found ourselves.

But despite being immersed in ocean, the wetness and cold and fear that it brings, a shedding occurs down there and you’ve emerged as a brighter, shinier version of whatever you are still yet to become. You have morphed into something new.