Balancing Act
When we are born, we are pure and innocent. Pure, and innocent. We are in a world of glittering white; where we grow, learn and play, blissfully unaware of the other side to life.
And yet, as we grow older, we begin to see the grey- just a faint hint, growing steadily darker. The grey, as we see, begins to give way to black. The other side of life. Looking back we see the purity and white of our childhood, and before us we see grey. And some of us, see black.
What do you do, when you are balancing upon the fine line that truly separates white from black? Where the grey is really more black than white? What then?
I am precariously balanced upon this line. I want it all: both white and black; purity and corruption. Even so, black consumes white, drawing it into its void, shattering the fragil soul that is myself. I am afraid to step. I want to, and yet I am afraid. Just of the first step. So easy, so easy. I could, if I wanted to. But then there would be no turning back; there would be no one who I could turn to. With that first step, everything my darkest dreams consist of would slowly become truth and reality, leaving behind the broken girl who I am now. But I would have no one, not after that first step. I would have to leave everyone, to persue these dark dreams. Yes, poeple would try to "help" me, taking me from those dark dreams of passion and pain.
Does it bother you that I think these thoughts? That I revel in them? Dreaming of them nightly? I am a creature of the night, no doubt. Behind all the cheeriness is a broken soul who cared too much. A broken soul who is balanced on a fine line, one between light and dark. Black and white. Ignorance and truth.
I am balanced, afraid of the first step. Afraid someone will stop me.
And yet, as we grow older, we begin to see the grey- just a faint hint, growing steadily darker. The grey, as we see, begins to give way to black. The other side of life. Looking back we see the purity and white of our childhood, and before us we see grey. And some of us, see black.
What do you do, when you are balancing upon the fine line that truly separates white from black? Where the grey is really more black than white? What then?
I am precariously balanced upon this line. I want it all: both white and black; purity and corruption. Even so, black consumes white, drawing it into its void, shattering the fragil soul that is myself. I am afraid to step. I want to, and yet I am afraid. Just of the first step. So easy, so easy. I could, if I wanted to. But then there would be no turning back; there would be no one who I could turn to. With that first step, everything my darkest dreams consist of would slowly become truth and reality, leaving behind the broken girl who I am now. But I would have no one, not after that first step. I would have to leave everyone, to persue these dark dreams. Yes, poeple would try to "help" me, taking me from those dark dreams of passion and pain.
Does it bother you that I think these thoughts? That I revel in them? Dreaming of them nightly? I am a creature of the night, no doubt. Behind all the cheeriness is a broken soul who cared too much. A broken soul who is balanced on a fine line, one between light and dark. Black and white. Ignorance and truth.
I am balanced, afraid of the first step. Afraid someone will stop me.