I’m at a breaking point, in a good way. Shoving back for once. Realizing potential for once. I’ve stared so long over the cliff that the chasm is starting to seem too deep to do any damage, or a mirage meant to trick my brain and keep me from jumping. I’m getting a feeling like taking this plunge will be more like falling up. Falling up at a rate faster than I can imagine, whisking me towards an infinite liberation painted by starry skies. Not that I don’t have to prepare for clouds, rain, and even thunder but those things are on their way down. And I’m falling up past them and through them.
There’s a fire. It started a long time ago in the recesses of my mind, a spark I thought I could ignore. But it’s been spreading. It’s made me jittery and afraid as I stand next to this chasm-mirage because there is no where to go. It’s been getting more and more virulent. Spreading rapidly, lighting everything ablaze. It’s everywhere now and all it wants is to throw me over that ledge, and up into the chasm. It shouts at me:
“What are you doing?”
“What’s taking so long?”
And more of the same. It’s talking so loudly now; over the part of me pleading to keep holding on. That if I let go I’ll surely plummet into the depths of the unknown forever scarred, maimed and forgotten.
It shouts that I’m already scarred. That I’ve already been maimed and limping about for years. And to be forgotten surely you have to make yourself known first.
So here I am, caught at the edge of a chasm. And everything is catching on fire.