Everything feels so fluid.
I feel as if I'm in the middle of whitewater rapids, standing. As if I'm just standing there, muscles tight and twitching; standing against this great force of nature. The water swirls and crashes all about me. It's so hard to think. My thoughts feel like the rapids. Attempting to hold onto a single thought is like trying to hold the nature that surrounds me. But there I am, standing against.
I don't know if I should move.
I'm afraid to take a step. I'm afraid to even unclench a single finger.
And I don't know if it's out fear that once I let go, once I let my muscles relax, once I take the first step that I will be swept away. Or if fear that once I try to move, that I'll continue to stand against the flow.