distractions.

at times, this lab coat, this stethoscope, this tendon hammer, these journals, these sirens, the suffering of the ill, they line up around me like bars and i regress and collapse into the fetal position, in the comfort of putting work aside and enjoying this moment of nothingness. of how good life was in the womb. almost weightless, suspended in liquor, with the shoulders feeling seemingly at ease from its burden.

all these shackles disintegrate when i break free into the world of movement, where focus seemed infinite and distractions kept to a bare minimum.