I’m standing on the precipice, it’s a cliff that I’ve prayed on before so much so that despite the fact that I don’t know if I believe in a god or gods anymore, my fingertips they bear callouses, my palms they bear callouses from pressing together so tightly. I pray hard when I pray. I’ve often thought that this maw in front of us was the end of everything, a darkness that consumed all, a black hole. Do you know that we are made up of the same stuff that makes up the stars? So, what flows through us may not be just blood but stardust? And we are dying, every second of every minute of every hour of every day brings us closer to that final day, that final hour that final minute that final second that final breath which means, when we run out of hydrogen we become giants, or super giants, or supernovas and if not that then we are simply stars whose ill-fated courses end in collision, either way, we’ll explode. With this in mind I reconsider the precipice, there is something beautiful in its blackness. Isn’t there something wondrous in its persistence in swallowing us all? The end of everything is the beginning of a brand new everything. The end of this universe may be the beginning of a brand new one. So that even now when my heart feels like the most congested intersection, the world it is waiting. I reconsider the precipice and so, in an effort to take part in reckless acts of self definition I jump, as I fall. As I let that beautiful blackness take me into its folds I know that I will be okay in them, I know, we, you and I, all of us, we will be safe in its embrace.
