More than a feelin

http://open.spotify.com/track/40LGKU0kbnbx4NXEMhTTXT

Every now and then I get this feeling. I've always had trouble describing it. It's always fleeting, and if I focus on it too hard, it disappears. When I was younger I used to think it was a connection with my dad. Some type of father to son thing. Where the emotion is so strong I catch a whiff of it. I'm not sure why I thought that.
I felt it again tonight. Watching How I Met Your Mother on Netflix in a hotel room in Bethlehem. The last time I felt it I was mowing the lawn.
There's nothing before it. No precursor, no trigger. It just happens. Slow and heavy. Metaphysical and existential.
My body feels heavier than the world. My bones thinner than feathers, but the weight supported easily enough.
It's shapes and shades. Heavy powder. Soft metal. Trains on tooth picks. Boats on water.
It feels like triangles and funnels. Rods and cones.
Each tooth like Stonehenge, and my anatomy as loosely connected the lead shavings of Wooly Willy. A thousand pounds of flesh. No more no less.
It's such an in-body experience it stops me in my tracks each time. I imagine men in opium dens feel something similar, albeit more euphoric.
Mine is more a sudden awareness of weight and connectivity, and the realness of it makes me think in terms unreal. Dali for the flesh.