I’m on a mountain.
It’s pretty ironic that when I need to clear my head and relax, I go to a church.
Not the church itself, but where it’s located. It’s on a mountain.
I like mountains.
The air is clean there. No exhaust fumes, no cigarette smoke, no foul odour from sludge filled canals. Just clean, crisp mountain air.
But today, I went into the church. I dipped my right hand in the font of holy water and made the sign of the cross like I was taught.
As I made my way to the pews, right before I sat I knelt in front of the altar and made the sign of the cross again.
Like I was taught.
It was pretty relaxing. I strolled across to this table-thing (not the altar) where some candles were burning. So I lit one.
Then I blasphemed :)
The view outside is pretty wicked. I could stay there all night if I could. The only thing that would have made this experience better, was if I had to ability to fly.
Oh Yes.
Very Yes.
I didn’t keep track of how long I spent.
Time does not exist when I’m there.
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