The mist blanket hugged and engulfed the earth, moving serenely through the valley and mountains, erasing the green landscape and turning everything stony grey.
The all village was shrouded in that thick, dangerous, eerie, ethereal mist. It was the sort that makes me feel isolated from the rest of the world. It is a magical mist, one that immortalises a moment in a dream like a universe suspended in time and space.
These are my moments of dreaminess, moments that I feel simultaneously in a dream and most grounded. I lose myself in my mind, and at times I worry I might just stay there, I might not find my way back.
I can go for hours, days, sometimes weeks, feeling like I’m stuck deep in that moonlike glow, surrounded by a low quality movie about the world around me.
And then a storm brings me home, brings me back.
For a moment I raised a hand to my face to check for my glasses. They were there. This de-focused world was there for everyone and not just reserved for me.
As it warmed up and sun left shyness behind, a known beautiful world reappeared from the whiteness. The world around me came to full colour, from the stony greys to every colour of the rainbow and more, and I watched all around me in a three dimensional canvas, clearer and perfect at every second.
I yearn for the bleak walks in the grey mist and for the moments I am engulfed by the pearly mist of my mind. I yearn for these walks on the grass, jumping upon fluffy cotton clouds, seeing only white.
Suddenly everything become clearer.
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