fear creeps inside me suddenly every now and then, like a small fire blooming. it comes out of nowhere, materialises in random irrelevant situations; i can be reading a book on a plane and suddenly the future pops into my head. it’s something that grips me in a second of fear; something i hurriedly douse with waves of resignation (there’s nothing you can do now that will change the outcome) and compulsion for pure escapism. i don’t let myself dwell on it for long. it’s a good life now really, but sometimes i feel like the future is falling over my head, and i’m scared. it’s a good life but sometimes i feel like every day is slush and i’m dragging my feet through it in a haze. can i only feel alive when the wind is hurtling at my face with such vengeful force i cannot open my eyes, t-shirt inflated in windy puffs and rippling like a flame, looking at bare sandy feet dangling above gold-tipped treetops with a tiny chill, unabashedly and joyfully singing over the deafening roar of water when no one can hear me and even i can barely hear myself? don’t get me wrong, i am definitely not upset, maybe more of lost and confused. like a puppet for so long dreaming of how beautifully and freely it would dance on its own, suddenly having its strings cut off and realising that its joints are not well-oiled and moveable, that freedom is not as easy and breathable as it seems. a tiny wisp, breath of a cloud finally broken free of a large gathering mass, before realising that it does not understand the language of the wind; where it is meant to go, alone and adrift in an island of sky. i am doing things and there is so much potential in each day but how do i make it feel like each moment and hour is fruitful and worthwhile?