Sometimes if I sit too still, if I let my heart wander freely for too long, I start to feel a certain sort of reflective nostalgia that I can't quite explain.

I feel myself swaying to the uptempo beat of a muggy, jazz filled night, the air thick with grain alcohol and heady romance. 

I feel my heart soar at the news of the German's defeat, thousands of souls around me dancing and singing at the bitter wars end. Am I nurse bedecked in white garb, or am I a soldier who just returned home?

I feel myself dancing barefoot and slightly high, in a mud laden field, sweet music pouring from the guitar of a boy who would leave this world all too soon.

I feel myself weightless, unburdened by gravity. The world below me, merely a blueberry that homes 3 billion ants.

I feel myself passing through time and space, this solar system, this galaxy merely a blip on a forever road map, as I rocket past the endless stars.