I am reading a book called “Breathing”. Maybe it’s called “Breathe”, I am not a hundred per cent sure. “How can it be”, you are asking. “How can you not know the name of the book”?
Well, life is a mystery and I am awake at three AM and I don’t think there is a point to try to go to sleep and have weird dreams about fast-talking but a little sense-making, an independent journalist and a political commentator, who goes under the name — Tim Pool.
Why him? I don’t even follow his show. I don’t even subscribe to his YouTube or any other channel. Why did he pop into my dream?
Back to the name of the book.
You see, I read the book in Lithuanian but the book is written by an American or Canadian author whose name escaped my mind at 3 AM. I think, his name is James but his surname is not that important to this story. I could stop typing and Duck Duck Go his name on my phone but then I would lose the stream of thought. And I don’t want to do it as I must type this and go back to sleep. I am driving back to The UK this morning and good rest is essential but how can I rest when my darling is snoring next to me like there is no tomorrow?
Back to the book.
The book is about breath. I guess you gather that. You are clever people. You understand what is happening around you. You have opinions and you like to judge. All of us do that.
Oh shit, sorry, I keep sidestepping. But you can understand it. It’s 3 in the morning, my wife is snoring, I just had a dream about Tim Pool and I am typing on my old Samsung phone without my glasses. This all is a bit overwhelming. Not as overwhelming as bombs falling down on the innocent in Ukraine but nonetheless you know what I mean.
Breathe or Breathing. Maybe Breath? No, I think it’s “Breathing”.
The book is talking about how wrongly the majority of us are breathing and it causes all sorts of problems — bad teeth, weak lungs, infections and so on. A mouth breather is not an insult but a medical condition.
Breathing through the nose is becoming a forgotten art.
I read the book and I am conscious of my breathing pattern. Shallow, fast, my mouth is waiting when it can open up. I consciously slow down my breathing. Slow in and slow out. Wait for a bit and again, slow in and slow out. Through the nose.
I fall asleep and watch my breath in the dream until Tim Pool comes and starts talking fast and in a nonsensical way.
That is it. There is no moral or a punch line. Only a long way back to the UK that none of us wishes to take.
P.S.
It’s an interesting book, you should read it when you have a chance to keep your diminished attention span away from your phone.
Fuck, I need to go to sleep but how can I sleep when the beds are burning? Or birds are falling? I never understood the lyrics of that song from the Aussie band called “Midnight Oil”. But please, don’t tell me if you know the lyrics, I need a bit of mystery in my life. Everything is too clear for me and misheard the lyrics of an 80’s song that’s what I am missing.
Never mind the thoughts on the shortcomings of Anarchism or the corruption and degradation of the political and belief systems in the XXIs century.
My wife has gone quiet so I can put this damn phone down, close my eyes and keep concentrating on my breath until Tim Pool comes to me to talk about things I don’t understand.