drifting

I've had quite a bit of time on my hands lately. To think. Although you may suspect I don't do it very often, rest assured, I am actively engaged at the present time. I have been laying on my back for 1 week, 1 day. I still have 4 weeks, 6 days left. Among that pondertime I have been dreaming some strange dreams thanks to oxycodine.
You are probably already bored, wondering, "what have you been thinking, and dreaming, sac attack?" I recently finished Beloved, by Toni Morrison. It is beautiful. And deals with slavery, focusing on a loss of freedom in every sense--even the non-ability to love. When they loved, their object of affection was always lost--not even lost, but sold. Their children. Husbands. Minds. Bodies.......everything. But me, how can I relate to this, attempt to reconcile it? I can't, really. But... I can love. My love isn't stolen away from me and sold. It's here. and now. It is solid. And so very real.
Real like my letters from Kandis and Whitney. And my text from Kori, who just wrote to say "I miss you". Like the get-well sunflowers in my room. These friends of mine, they drift in and out of my thoughts. And of my life. So many people.... intersecting with me for a period, then drifting off again. But leaving me changed. I think that is how most everything affects me: the impressions of Morrison, the faint laughter of carmen on the phone. All drifting in my mind, and returning, re-memorying when needed.
I am free.