I don’t know who reads this, but I would like to pretend to myself, just for now, that you are one of them.
I can barely write prose, but I seem to try. I can’t write fiction, but I can write hypotheticals. Might happens are different. There’s places in between places. I can see you on this screen, I touch it and my fingers leave marks on the glass. It’s a poor mans sunshine, but it’s what I have. My life is beginning, my options open in a way I won’t have later. I’m an arrogant bitch just for putting this here.
This is a dare.
It makes me always happy to be reminded that everyone is human. Our heroes are fools, our scientists go grocery shopping like everyone else. Motivations are complex or simple but always personal. Shiny metal buildings organically curving above me and I thought of you. Again, at two degrees away from the exhibits. Stopped suddenly, I didn’t laugh when I realized what I was doing. Instead I held it. Looked at the shape of my thoughts. Small and round but heavy in my mind. A lump of etched silver, showing parts of the my motivation I rarely think of and never visit. Something has shifted.
Stupid and brave may be synonymous.
The world is dark. Shadows lengthened to eat my room, to leave me lit only by my computer. Interestingly, I am left knowing that danger is also a personal thing. Webs woven of the strangest politics are the ones we encounter when desire is involved. Desire of any sort. Want versus need versus what we think. We think too much and that’s what makes us human. Pieces here and there of animalism break through and we get murders and violent crimes. Thinking too much I agree with. I’m very, very good at saying No. My eyes may close, but I can still see the upcoming drop. Somehow, I have taken control but am still moving, one careful step in front of the other, closer to the cliffside. I can’t see the ground, but past this, the undiscovered country is waiting. I don’t know if this is a push, a leap or an accidental fall.
There is wind.