i’m currently writing this on tear stained paper
right next to my journal entries from a year ago.
first off i just want to say,
promises don’t last.

there’s something about being so close to the edge but knowing you’re not going to fall.

looking at my feet dangling off the end of a cliff..
i love it.

it’s so on edge
but also so secure
because unless an accident happened..
you’re not going to randomly just fall over.
you’ve sat your whole life since you were a baby.
you’re not going to randomly tip over

for example when you sit in a chair..
you trust yourself enough to eat at a table with confidence that you’re not going to just fall off of your chair..

yet we are so frightened by the idea of an edge
of pain
of the end
the end of what..us? you..? me..?
there is no end according to my town growing up, you live forever.
because of God..? right..?
we go on into heaven.
so even when we push the edge.. they shouldn’t fear right??
because they live on.??
lol where is God when you die?
idk

and i don’t think i want to know
because even though we truly have nothing to fear except the unknown

none of us trust ourselves enough
or dare ourselves to push the edge
to get that slight rush followed by the relief of:
“hmm that’s not so bad”

it’s so peaceful.

idk sometimes i feel like i’m just idling on the edge of a cliff and i just want to ******* gas it

he promised me in thirty years we’d be sitting on this rock and thinking about how amazing life is
ha and guess what?

he lied
life is ******.

kinda wanna die right now