The Morning Crash / by padhia hutton

Every morning for a few brief moments, I wake up in a state of complete serenity. I can’t feel my body and there is no detectable boundary between myself and the magical electricity of the universe. I have no identity and therefore no history, present, or future. Time doesn’t exist; there is only this one beautiful bright swirling moment. This used to last a matter of seconds and then as I scrambled for my identity as one might scramble for their bathrobe, every morning without fail a giant 1,000 ton elevator car would come crashing down on me from far far above, paralyzing me with its weight and trapping me under its sheer magnitude. It would knock the breath out of me as I became overwhelmed, paralyzed with fear & dread and all kinds of other non-descript horrible feelings that swirl around in that thick murky soup of fuckery. The simple act of waking up and remembering my identity was the most difficult part of the day, as depression and confusion over the past, anxiety over the future, and disappointment over the moment consumed me. I wasn’t who I dreamed of being, I wasn’t where I wanted to be, I didn’t see any hope of getting to where I so desperately in my heart knew I needed to go in order to be free. Dreams felt like a curse, as I saw no path and had no resources to help me get to the distant places I dreamed of.
This went on for years… as I struggled against all logic and everything I had ever been shown to create a life that matched the images I saw through the eyes of my heart.

Now, I still have those few blank moments upon awakening… moments which I count amongst my greatest treasures as I could never articulate the pure peace of them… and then, as I recall who I am, where I have been, and what I will do, a slow sleepy smile spreads across my face as my heart fills with joy….

Unfuk yourself.