The Cusp
I'm on the cusp. Alright so maybe that's no the best way to describe where I am. Technically I'm at Barnes & Noble using the free wifi and drinking a skinny vanilla latte that I know will interfere with my ability to fall asleep tonight. I don't want to lie awake tonight. I don't need to feel the darkness around me and wait for my mind to swirl out of control. Not any night, but especially not tonight.
It has to do with the cusp. As in, "I'm on the cusp of something". It's probably more of a crevice. Or maybe a precipice. I shouldn't still be here. A year ago, yes. I had every excuse in the book to be where I was. Lies and deceit and treachery have a way of shoving a person right toward a variety of cusps. That I did not leap out in front of a moving train had more to do with the accessibility of trains than my mindset. A year ago this place was understandable.
Now, it's pretty much a mystery.
I'm not hung up on anything. I've forgiven what I need to forgive, which is very nearly everything, right down to the exhaust smell that occasionally still hangs in the air. I long ago came to the conclusion that those who believe their own propaganda will never admit to lies. So why should I dwell? What's to be will be. What is...is. The rest is simply whatever.
So, all is forgiven. Me, myself, I. She, herself. They, them. And all the rest too, if only for good measure. One can never forgive too much. Especially when one is on the cusp.
Forgetting, though, is the trick.
Should one? Is it for the best to remember? Or better to forget? I don't think even amnesia would keep me from this place. The cusp. Where I am. It's in my soul. Souls, even those that don't believe in gods, know everything.
If I could go back to today a year ago, would I change anything? I was powerless then. Why am I to think I would be more powerful now? Or smarter? Even if I was, would it change anything?
Part of me believes that I destined for this cusp, this crevice, this precipice. That I was destined to dangle awhile and contemplate my strength, my weakness, and an ill-advised afternoon skinny vanilla latte. The other part of me thinks I'm full of shit.
Regardless, here is where I am. For better or worse. The same place, yet a vastly different one, where I fell and found myself a year ago.
It has to do with the cusp. As in, "I'm on the cusp of something". It's probably more of a crevice. Or maybe a precipice. I shouldn't still be here. A year ago, yes. I had every excuse in the book to be where I was. Lies and deceit and treachery have a way of shoving a person right toward a variety of cusps. That I did not leap out in front of a moving train had more to do with the accessibility of trains than my mindset. A year ago this place was understandable.
Now, it's pretty much a mystery.
I'm not hung up on anything. I've forgiven what I need to forgive, which is very nearly everything, right down to the exhaust smell that occasionally still hangs in the air. I long ago came to the conclusion that those who believe their own propaganda will never admit to lies. So why should I dwell? What's to be will be. What is...is. The rest is simply whatever.
So, all is forgiven. Me, myself, I. She, herself. They, them. And all the rest too, if only for good measure. One can never forgive too much. Especially when one is on the cusp.
Forgetting, though, is the trick.
Should one? Is it for the best to remember? Or better to forget? I don't think even amnesia would keep me from this place. The cusp. Where I am. It's in my soul. Souls, even those that don't believe in gods, know everything.
If I could go back to today a year ago, would I change anything? I was powerless then. Why am I to think I would be more powerful now? Or smarter? Even if I was, would it change anything?
Part of me believes that I destined for this cusp, this crevice, this precipice. That I was destined to dangle awhile and contemplate my strength, my weakness, and an ill-advised afternoon skinny vanilla latte. The other part of me thinks I'm full of shit.
Regardless, here is where I am. For better or worse. The same place, yet a vastly different one, where I fell and found myself a year ago.
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