Pin.
Here's a pin.
I know this pin is tiny,
Much smaller than me,
Inanimate,
Not capable of moving without my help.
I'm aware of all those things.
I'm realistic.
When I talk about the pin;
When I hold the pin;
When I show others the pin;
When others hold the pin;
I show my awareness,
Outer calm,
Rationality.
This is just a pin.
I show this because I'm afraid.
Not just of the pin.
(With its tiny but incredibly sharp point, that a person could place carelessly or deliberately so that it could pierce, several inches, into the soft part of my foot.)
But also because of how foolish I will look, in front of you, when you know how much I am afraid of this ...
One ...
Tiny ...
Pin.
Instead, I tell you of the pin, of its dangers, of how I manage its dangers by being aware of the pin;
By my knowledge of its sharp point;
by the knowledge of how to put that pin away, so that I can not stumble upon that pin as it pierces into that vulnerable part of my skin.
But I'm disorganised ... and in reality, when things are busy, I don't always have time to put away pins. I have bigger things to deal with, and... at the end of the day...
I enter the room,
aware of the pin,
afraid of its sharp point.
Focussed on the pin,
On the pain it would bring,
Were I to stand on it.
I step close to the pin.
How close can I get without that sharp pain?
I want to live,
Without being ruled by a pin.
So shiny.
So sharp.
So small.
So insignificant.
So painful.
Ouch!
I'll put that pin away now so that nobody can see how much it hurts.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 7:04 PM UTC
Pin.
Here's a pin.
I know this pin is tiny,
Much smaller than me,
Inanimate,
Not capable of moving without my help.
I'm aware of all those things.
I'm realistic.
When I talk about the pin;
When I hold the pin;
When I show others the pin;
When others hold the pin;
I show my awareness,
Outer calm,
Rationality.
This is just a pin.
I show this because I'm afraid.
Not just of the pin.
(With its tiny but incredibly sharp point, that a person could place carelessly or deliberately so that it could pierce, several inches, into the soft part of my foot.)
But also because of how foolish I will look, in front of you, when you know how much I am afraid of this ...
One ...
Tiny ...
Pin.
Instead, I tell you of the pin, of its dangers, of how I manage its dangers by being aware of the pin;
By my knowledge of its sharp point;
by the knowledge of how to put that pin away, so that I can not stumble upon that pin as it pierces into that vulnerable part of my skin.
But I'm disorganised ... and in reality, when things are busy, I don't always have time to put away pins. I have bigger things to deal with, and... at the end of the day...
I enter the room,
aware of the pin,
afraid of its sharp point.
Focussed on the pin,
On the pain it would bring,
Were I to stand on it.
I step close to the pin.
How close can I get without that sharp pain?
I want to live,
Without being ruled by a pin.
So shiny.
So sharp.
So small.
So insignificant.
So painful.
Ouch!
I'll put that pin away now so that nobody can see how much it hurts.
