The reassuring words wobble and waver, it seems the enthusiastic element of my vocabulary is drying up like a river in December. I feel like the very core of who I am and what I believe in is so fragile right now that if you so much as look at me, I may shatter into a million little pieces. What more are we, than fractions of an extraordinary whole? There come days like these where I can't figure out if the weighty potential of this era is curing or crushing me. What dictates when it's the right moment to be content and when you can be curious? Indeed, there is a here in Anywhere, but is home where my heart is or is my heart at home? I blame this eternal discontent on a lack of gratitude for what I have, but what if the crime is in those waves of unseized opportunities and choices you forgot you made? You say there is no wrong answer but the thought of an Otherworld forever triggers my curiosity and I keep thinking that wretched, "But what if?"
This was my second summertime and I could chase the sun forever if wintertime wasn't so white and whimsical. It's nice to know the option is always there, because it's all a choice. Zoom out and there I am, on the ground because I tripped or someone pushed me down -- what does it matter, even? The bloody saltwater is a detail, for whatever it's worth. But wait, watch me stand up and try again. That sight would make anybody smile, whether it's sinister or satisfying.
And I think about finding those 15 seconds of courage, just so I can write about it later. So this is it, you ache but it feels good to stand up and dust yourself off with determination, however uncertain it all feels. Deep breath, heads down, thumbs up. It's a game you can't lose until you start saying "Why" without the "not". Go on, dream deeper than you ever dared.
(to be continued),