I sleep but my heart never stops beating. The dreaming and waking makes it seem like a temporary starting over. A dying and coming back to life. Letting my muscles give back all of their teary hurt to the creatures in the clouds.

It felt like dying and coming back to life, each night and morning dawn. But my heart never stopped beating, my lungs never stop filling and emptying. Sometimes so fast those days when I would run up and down the field and shuffle around the arc on the grass dirt. Today is my 10,179 day alive. That means my heart has been beating for 244,291 hours straight without stopping. I wonder what day at what time was its 111,111st hour. And when would be its 333,333rd. But of course there would be hours lost in airplanes and timezone change, almost impossible to calculate. It seems like when I’m 30.44 I will have had my 11,111 day on earth. I wonder if special things happen on these days that may otherwise go unnoticed. I wonder if we wrote what number day it was for us at the top of the page instead of the date, if we would have a different relationship to our existence. If we would cherish it more. Celebrate it more. The awe of a heart that beats for 10,179 days without stopping. Someone that’s 90, their heart has beat for 32,878 days straight. And that’s only 22,699 more than me. I’m already 1/3rd dead.