Crash
Have you ever crashed? Have you ever stood on the edge of the cliff, looked down, and stared yourself in the eye? Have you ever let yourself fall? Have you reached up for a hand and found nothing but air?
The feelings rush over you as you tumble down. You scream and cry; anything to make the falling stop. You didn’t think it would feel this way. You just thought that anything was better then standing at the top of that cliff alone, the cold winds battering you.
Then as your body shatters on the ground you realize two things, you’re not dead, and you’re still at the top of the cliff. Nothing has changed.
Your world shatters. You can’t escape. So you jump again. When you’re falling, you may be terrified, but you’re free. Instead of cold nothingness there is a thrill. Adrenalin pumps through you; the rushing wind stings your face. When you’re falling you don’t have to look yourself in the eye. It doesn’t matter that you have no reflection in the mirror; all that matters is that you feel.
There is no pretending when you fall, no masks to ease other people’s fears. The people who watch you aren’t in free fall. Nothing exists but you and the rush. You’re beyond everyone’s touch, including your own.
Each time you fall a little more of you is chipped away. Each time you crash another crack appears. You ignore them, accept them. A crack and a chip is a small price to pay to feel alive. Others don’t see it that way. They see the traces on your body from meeting the ground and are afraid. They are afraid that one time you will fall too far, you will crash too hard, and you won’t come back. They feel that each of those marks represent failure. Not just your failure but theirs as well, and so they look away unseeing. They think that death is what you want. Death by falling would be a perversion.
Falling and crashing is a selfish thing. It’s not about them; it’s about the lack of them. It’s about pushing everything aside so you can live for one more day; make it through one more trial. Falling is about standing on your own. Crashing is a reminder that no matter how many people surround you, you are always alone.
Sometimes you want to drag them down with you. You want to lead them to the edge and force them to follow or loose you. Sometimes they’re willing to hold your hand as you try to keep from jumping; sometimes they just can’t. After all, they’re not strong enough either. Sometimes when you think they have you, you step off that edge, you expect to dangles, but their hand slips and you find yourself falling. When they’re at the bottom to pick up the pieces it hurts, but when they walk away and pretend you were never there; it’s worse.
You turn, expecting to see love and instead you see them denying you everything. At that time you want to fly one last time, crash one last time, you want to live one more time. You want to feel that rush and then as you lie on the ground, feeling euphoric, you want the ground to open up and swallow you. You want to die.
The feelings rush over you as you tumble down. You scream and cry; anything to make the falling stop. You didn’t think it would feel this way. You just thought that anything was better then standing at the top of that cliff alone, the cold winds battering you.
Then as your body shatters on the ground you realize two things, you’re not dead, and you’re still at the top of the cliff. Nothing has changed.
Your world shatters. You can’t escape. So you jump again. When you’re falling, you may be terrified, but you’re free. Instead of cold nothingness there is a thrill. Adrenalin pumps through you; the rushing wind stings your face. When you’re falling you don’t have to look yourself in the eye. It doesn’t matter that you have no reflection in the mirror; all that matters is that you feel.
There is no pretending when you fall, no masks to ease other people’s fears. The people who watch you aren’t in free fall. Nothing exists but you and the rush. You’re beyond everyone’s touch, including your own.
Each time you fall a little more of you is chipped away. Each time you crash another crack appears. You ignore them, accept them. A crack and a chip is a small price to pay to feel alive. Others don’t see it that way. They see the traces on your body from meeting the ground and are afraid. They are afraid that one time you will fall too far, you will crash too hard, and you won’t come back. They feel that each of those marks represent failure. Not just your failure but theirs as well, and so they look away unseeing. They think that death is what you want. Death by falling would be a perversion.
Falling and crashing is a selfish thing. It’s not about them; it’s about the lack of them. It’s about pushing everything aside so you can live for one more day; make it through one more trial. Falling is about standing on your own. Crashing is a reminder that no matter how many people surround you, you are always alone.
Sometimes you want to drag them down with you. You want to lead them to the edge and force them to follow or loose you. Sometimes they’re willing to hold your hand as you try to keep from jumping; sometimes they just can’t. After all, they’re not strong enough either. Sometimes when you think they have you, you step off that edge, you expect to dangles, but their hand slips and you find yourself falling. When they’re at the bottom to pick up the pieces it hurts, but when they walk away and pretend you were never there; it’s worse.
You turn, expecting to see love and instead you see them denying you everything. At that time you want to fly one last time, crash one last time, you want to live one more time. You want to feel that rush and then as you lie on the ground, feeling euphoric, you want the ground to open up and swallow you. You want to die.