I remember leaping through the Georgia woods like a Gazelle carrying boxes of MREs in combat boots and fatigues. I didn't "feel" anything butt pure joy and power flowing through everything. I didn't feel separate from the not trail. There was a log I ran down it like Legolas from lord of the rings. There was no effort involved.
Then many decades later the decay set in. I'm still kind of horrified. Not terrified. It's like. Hard to explain. It's not the fear of death. It's the fear of being stuck this way and doing it all over again. Millions upon millions of times.
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