Free floating and light headed

The sun is going down over and across the Corniche, slightly visible in the distance from the dirty window of the hotel apartment which itself is not that bad but very impersonal and sterile. I have this feeling of being suspended in the air and free floating like the astronaut in some science documentary, drifting about aimlessly and involuntarily, unable to rest his feet on the ground because it has refused to pull, whose only connection to the world he lived in is through that camera watching him or the video phone he is talking on. Displaced and disconnected, at least physically with the land, unable to feel your own weight, anonymous in the greatness of space around you, settled but not settled.

Its gives you a certain light headedness, a dizzying feeling of being weightless after having spent so much time on the land. This lightness is also accompanied by a sense of exhilaration, of excitement, of being slightly high on the newness of the situation and everything. This lightness is also a feeling of utter loneliness in the quiet expanse of the space, which is not empty by the way but littered with random unrelated bodies kept together by the invisible force of gravity. The gravity that each body is exerting on another, pulling each other in different directions. The gravity between the bodies and whatever home planet they are orbiting, free floating yet invisibly connected, wanting to fall but kept in orbit by the very same gravity. The lightness makes everything the same, you do or you don’t do, you be or you don't be. But I have to do and I have to be.