Why does it feel like some days everything is fine, while others it’s like I’m dancing on the edge of a cliff? Like I’m walking along the edge, one foot in front of the other, arms stretched on either side, as if I am walking a tight rope but the fall is much harder and more my decision than just balance and gravity. I want to keep walking, but recently I feel like the best thing to do for everyone is if I just let go. Peace. Tranquility. That’s what the thought is right? By letting go, by falling off that edge the idea is we would be at peace finally and those around us could move on and be happy. I know that’s not ever the truth for those left behind, the stories are never that simple and the pieces never fall into place the way they were planned, but then why do we think that then? Why is the idea of falling so enticing when the dust is like daggers to those looking down at us? If you don’t want to do something, you simply don’t do it. Right? But it is never that simple, and yet that phrase is engrained into my brain like a prison tattoo. Ragged and borderline unsanitary, but bold and in your face. It pushes me to my limits of what I know and what I think I know. And it makes me feel like the biggest idiot on the planet. How can I know I wanted to do something I didn’t know I did in the first place? What if I didn’t want to do it and it happened anyways? What if I am just a spaceshot and it happens over and over because that’s just me out to lunch in my brain but I don’t mean to? All these scenarios. But only one response. If you don’t want to do something, you don’t do it.
Well I don’t want to fall off that ledge,
but to be honest,
The ground is looking a lot better than the road ahead.
