I can no longer flow through the day. It seems to have grown too small, either that or I have grown too heavy. To have grown huge and shapeless. A monster cannot flow in and out of a day, a monster is not fluid. It cannot flow into and fill the day’s empty spaces. It overflows. It grows. It cannot hide in the world. A monster rumbles. It rampages. It cannot be still. It cannot play in a quiet orchestra. A monster is slow and heavy. The days begin to go more slowly. I fill. I do not flow. It is me who is slowing things down.
