Texture and Timbre

Sometimes, lately, I've been running my hands over things, like my pillow or covers, or the closet door, or textures on the walls. It snaps me out of some weird place, as if I was dreaming, or floating. The world rushes in around me, cold, alive, touching, invading, silent, deafening, awake and ticking away. Feeling that is one of the scariest things to me. It is also one of the most wonderful things in the world. Like listening to a piece of music that gives you so many chills, you are yanked out of that reverie of pure music for a moment, and find you have broken out into a cold sweat, suddenly and briefly aware of something that is once again just as suddenly gone.