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By Tarik MurrellPublished 3 months ago 1 min read
Photo by Eléonore Bommart on Unsplash

I’m dizzy. My world is turning and leaving me behind. Too much is happening too quickly and I’m begging molecules themselves to stop and whisper to me. I need answers.

As if I’m owed them, as if I’m this world’s axis. As if each force and particle needs my permission to be. Not as if when I say it’s “My” world it’s my privilege to be a member of it. No, I say it like I made it. What if I did?What if every force was my push? My breath the first wind, my voice the first sounds, my tears the first oceans , my thoughts the first clouds. What does the storm owe me?

I’m dizzy and I never once think that I should be the one to catch up. I’m dizzy and I never think that maybe I can’t watch each drop of rain rain while watching each ray of light while feeling each touch of wind.

I’m dizzy and it’s my fault. Whether or not it’s My world. Either I set it in motion and fell behind or I joined the movement and fell out of step. Either way, motion owes me nothing.

inspirationalsurreal poetryfact or fictionart

About the Creator

Tarik Murrell

A physicist learning to write.

I wrote a book! $10 and it's yours.

I want to eat from my writing. I feed it , so it can feed me.

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  • Margaret Brennan3 months ago

    I remember when I was a kid, (I often wonder now at my age if I didn't have undiagnosed adhd) if I told my mom I felt dizzy, she would say I was born dizzy and as the earth was spinning, I'd only get dizzier. Your story reminded me of that. Thanks for the laugh and the memories.

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