I want my swagger back

The dreams have such vivid color; such urgency. There are places to go and things to do and I am

late.

Such a contrast to this slow motion lurch to stand. I actually have to think about walking. Turns out, this is both tiring and trying. That the brain is capable of doing these things is crazy. That I am back to being a one year old is also crazy.

It’s funny.

Not in that hilarious way. Not any more. It’s funny in that the most basic and familiar is strange. I want my swagger back. I want that ability to walk with purpose to wherever I choose. This is a temporary situation. External memory. Loss for a time. Empathy for a lifetime. Figured it was worth putting down.