It's such a simple but vital act. Filling your lungs with air, feeling your chest expand. Then pushing it out, feeling it expel, hot and heavy into the still air. You get caught up in all the madness but you never forget to breathe. It's unconscious; you just do it. You do it or you die.
A friend told me yesterday to focus on the present. My ex tells me not to worry about things I can't control. My lover tells me to focus on getting through a tiny increment of time and then move on to conquer the next tiny increment. My lover the war veteran tells me he's had to break it down to thirty minute increments before.
Well fuck that. I suck at all that shit. I'm a control freak; I'm impatient. I want answers and I want them now. I'm usually about two steps ahead of the present. And the things I can't control are the things I worry about most. And right now that's everything.
At least I'm eating. At least I'm sleeping. And yeah, I'm breathing.
You do it or you die.