To exist is to stand beneath a waterfall, deliberately abandoning the sedentary shore. Stripping away the mundane, you traverse treacherous rocks, breath held, and plunge into the cascade. The unrelenting water pounds your skull, ricocheting off shoulders and arms. As it races beside you, you sense it forcefully rising along your lower body, bubbling and breaking against your skin. In this tumult, where the force is at its zenith, only the strength of your neck prevents a watery facial. Yet, you breathe. Amid the chaos, you realize you could adapt to this existence, focusing enough to even peer at the serene far bank while attempting an arm raise. Amid the deafening noise and relentless assault, being alive is feeling time relentlessly pounding—an awareness of your generation’s fleeting moment, vanishing as swiftly as rivers plummet through thin air.

By Shaun Sima
https://chef-pocket.com/aboutme