The Writing of Us




It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, except you have no control over what happens next.

The opportunity to walk away in the other direction doesn’t exist. That wave of emotion, while you desperately hang on, hits you and it forces you over without hesitation. And just like that, you’re thrown into a free fall of unfamiliarity and indefinite darkness, and only until you reach the bottom, can you begin to piece yourself back together again.

Eventually this journey becomes a piece of you, but no matter how many times you free-fall, it still brings back the feeling of the first time- that vast vulnerability. You become comfortable, as comfortable as you could possibly be in such a condition. To be trapped within the walls of your own mind is a terrifying way to experience life; yet within the chaos true beauty and identity are formed.

It sometimes feels as though you can’t make sense of the imaginations you have, your ideas are clouded and your desires are masked by this lurking inability to think freely. It’s like every choice you make is decided because of something that resides up there, planning out your every thought, word, or feeling -a paralyzing presence of an unwanted opinion

But it’s also a conflicted contradiction. Within the turmoil you find peace, within the doubt exists hope, and within the denial there is acceptance.

It forces you to be raw. It teaches you to be gentle and it pushes you to be tough. Nevertheless, its debilitating nature is strong enough to devastate your soul, leaving you empty.

It has strength, sometimes so much that it washes away any glimpse of contentment and serenity.

Its power is paralyzing.

And it wins.

Or it doesn’t.

The choice is yours.


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