Soul

Sometimes I think that my soul is going through life slower than others. As if it takes moments and slowly tastes them, rolling them around with its tongue.

A slow intake of textures and smells and thoughts and drunkness and all other aspirational moments that exist in life. The insignificant ones that dont get noticed, perhaps, as much as they should. My soul observes and intakes perhaps too many moments and creates significance, that is its "freshly made cup of tea feeling".

Native Americans thought that living life too fast meant that souls couldn't keep up.

Is my soul always left behind?