The point of everything stands on two lines. Straight and narrow. A lean to the left can run you off course. But when you butt your head far too long, it will leave you stranded in the grayness of it all. The nothingness of everything. All hush and whirling buzz. It’s the sound of someday might come but maybe, perhaps it can be all together be forgotten. In a blink of an eye, you can see your future crumble under the resolve of no one. It would be fascinating if there was an audience. But looking around, you might just claw your eyes out and wish you had something else other than your two bare hands.
Some say it’s safer out there. What with nothing in recompense. In there, you wont find any dulling pain. You wont see mangled hearts or crushed souls. There is peace. And quite a lot of it is stilled in stupor. You can sit and marvel at the quietness of it all. The sky might be forever battling between turning darkness into the clear expanse of light. But it’s tolerable to a degree. You can get used to it. You will get used to it. However between the eerie silence and abstract lines, you can feel a push inside you. Slowly, ever slowly, you will come to realize that you are horribly out of your depth.
It’s emptiness you see. It’s the forced solace that you get when you cross the divide. With nothing to fight and nothing to cling to, something inside you withers. Something inside of you weakens as time passes by. At the beginning, there might still be a lingering desire to move. To breathe. To choose. To live. But with seconds ticking by, it turns itself off. Resolve is nothing but a word. A memory is just something that eats you alive. And with desire comes the truth. That what could have been, what should have been is just a second too late.
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