Running down Bernal Heights at dusk tonight felt like I was flying.
There was no horizon, but instead, a sea of city lights below me.
I was swimming in it, buoyed up by it, and felt the freedom I've chased my whole life in it.
Later tonight, I found myself talking to a new friend about flight.
For him, flying wasn't about the aircraft, but about the sheer joy of exploration.
I was looping a track throughout our conversation. It must have been over half an hour. I was awestruck when I noticed its title.
If this is reality, I see no separation between this and dreams.
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