What if every breath could be as good as the breath you devour after being held, for what seems like an eternity, under the heavy pressure of the Pacific's arm? That precious moment when, after kicking and flailing beneath the turbulence and waves, you, a speck in the vastness, burst through the wet skin and violently suck in life. Spew out the carbonic waste and take in the sweet air that we so liberally take advantage of. Air, your momentary best friend, savior.
What if every breath could be that good?
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About Me
- JeffreyLocke
- I am recent graduate just looking at the dirt, writing about it.
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