I miss the rush now.

I miss the rush now. The blurred street lights, wild neons and a violent wind that forces me to close my eyes while I desperately try to keep them open. I want to see it all, everything that passes by, everything that is bright and jagged around me. I miss the sensation that I get somewhere inside when I'm lifted, and the absence of gravity is liberating. That blissful empty moment when I truly am no different than a speck of dust making its way into oblivion, no mass, no thoughts...

Then we hit the sea, and I'm reminded of reality as a cold, salty wave manages to hit me squarely in the face. I laugh, and try to dry my eyes so as to be able to see the passing boats and lights. The water is dark, ominous. White foams form, then disappear as we speed past. I can only hear the splashes now, and the wind. It's wonderful. I think it's the closest to freedom I can get. I can picture myself reaching out for it in my mind.

Close, but no cookie.

I miss the rush now.