Wings of fancy

I am poised to take flight … and surprisingly, I am all ready for the dive that awaits me as well. Along with the anticipatory gushing wind in my hair and eyes, alongside with it, I look forward to the water gushing into my lungs and I getting choked on emotion, or the lack of it. I wish for the buoyancy that both water and air will lend me.. am I greedy or what, for wanting the heady-ness of two worlds put together.. or then, maybe even a third one thrown in there.. to add to the vertigo of it. High up there, clamoring for oxygen in the frozen skies and down in the abyss, fighting hard for sucking the air out of the water.. again, why do I crave these? Maybe just to escape the mundane and the repetitive… maybe to stretch beyond and explode to bits, maybe just to endure more than now… more than EVER.

Is this the final frontier or is this a new beginning, the ironies seem never ending? Maybe the much awaited final orgasmic apocalypse will finally result in rebirth. I just hope that I don’t get stuck mid-way between down and beyond into the here and now… now, that would be the hugest irony of all.