My grip sort of loosens.
I can feel life sort of rushing out from between my fingers.
I have no desire to hold too tight.
This is a new development.
I observe myself and others.
It's like I'm watching life go on without me, although, I'm in it too.
There's a new disassociation, a disorientation.
It's neither agreeable nor disagreeable.
"Ever since I was a little ball of golden light, I knew what I wanted to be."