Floating. I am floating through space and time and memories and moments. I am adrift in an endless sea of thoughts rolling with waves of emotions. It is a feeling of being both pulled down and weightless. Floating.
Flying. It is as though I am swimming through the air with my senses set ablaze. The clouds brush my alabaster skin and flush my cheeks to a rosy hue. The summer wind teases my mocha locks which fly with me like wings to lift me above space, through time. Flying.
Falling. My teardrops fall like sunfilled bombs upon the grassy hills. Where each wet pearl hath landed sits a rose with golden thorns. The mushroom cloud of happy thoughts blooms with a blue swirl smoke and embers of long lost love. Falling.