It's... warmth, more than warmth truly. It is a feeling of being disconnected from your pain, oh you can still feel the edges of it, but it does not matter. You can look upon it and all your life as though you were a scholar reading over a text. Your senses grow sharp, the flicker of a light in the darkness takes on a countless number of sights you missed before, the smoke gains an elegance and grace that we so often overlook. You can feel the grain of wood and every raised detail and carved dip of what you touch, and the color and sound that goes ignored comes to the front and invites you to see, hear, and touch.
Rest comes easily, even to a troubled mind, and the dreams on the rim of that sleep are so vivid that even on waking you must ask yourself where each could be separated, if only for a moment. Memories rise up, quickly and then run away, but each one is as clear as when they first occurred. Every feeling from joy, to wonder, and even strangely to pain and tears, all of them are there to relive again. It is though all of your life is before you, and you could pluck each sight and travel through the ages, if only for a moment.
Words flow naturally, and the emotions of others become clear, each gesture and tone gaining meaning where there was so much more missed before. Time feels differently, and there is only the feeling of peace and calm, and the sedate wonder at the nature of our world.
Perhaps it is both, but it's much how if one closes their eyes... their hearing becomes sharp. In cutting away the troubles of the world, you become more aware of the inflection in the voice, the tenseness of a form, the expressions that normally are only there and gone in one moment.
The type and purity of what you have chosen, how you choose its' means, what you have consumed before or after... like today. I should not have had wine, but I would not have our other brother know of this. It is easier for him to smell it on my form, but it lessens the effects, and I have been short of breath.
...And light-headed, that has not happened before.
He doesn't even know I am back yet. *pause, thinking* I'll go meet with him. I have things to talk him about anyway and I'll likely surprise him if you've convinced him I've been missing. He won't notice if you are seeing a physician then.
Would it be better for you to meet here or elsewhere? *this question is more to himself than to Juan* Elsewhere, but I don't know if I will be able to move you on my own to the hospital, although it is nearer now. The quickest way is right through the middle of the square, however, and I'm sure you would not care for that. *dialing*
I mean even after this. You will scowl and snap at me later in the hospital, and find new ways to keep me from this peace, but you rage because you have not yet found a way to control this.
I will yell at you because I wish to and because you frustrate me by forcing me to take such steps. *off the phone, pulling Juan up* Come, we are going outside.
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Rest comes easily, even to a troubled mind, and the dreams on the rim of that sleep are so vivid that even on waking you must ask yourself where each could be separated, if only for a moment. Memories rise up, quickly and then run away, but each one is as clear as when they first occurred. Every feeling from joy, to wonder, and even strangely to pain and tears, all of them are there to relive again. It is though all of your life is before you, and you could pluck each sight and travel through the ages, if only for a moment.
Words flow naturally, and the emotions of others become clear, each gesture and tone gaining meaning where there was so much more missed before. Time feels differently, and there is only the feeling of peace and calm, and the sedate wonder at the nature of our world.
Lessening of pain... is a vast understatement.
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I'm not accusing you of being wrong, I am curious which it is.
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...And light-headed, that has not happened before.
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If it grows worse, but if our brother would find out, than simply find a way to end the problem.
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[Give him a bit, and he's not going to be looking so good, yeah]
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Whatever you think best, brother. I care little about it now.
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