We’re hanging on a string from the window sill of tomorrow. Cut the lifeline. Don’t anticipate. Just cherish the adrenaline rush of letting tomorrow go. Because even if there is no future, no prospect, no silver lining – you have now. Now is the only thing we ever really have. The lifeline that lets us hope for a parachute, a plan, a chance – this lifeline is only a fluke. We can’t seize tomorrow. It’s not ours. That doesn’t mean we can’t have today.
You go to the land some book has told you about. We come out of books. We carry pages and chapters around in our chests, prologues on our fingertips, epilogues on the backs of our feet. There’s dying in our eyes. But that’s alright. Today we’re beautiful. Use up all the words you have. There’s no sequel, no final version that’s still to come. Use up all the words you have, for this is our story. We need to tell it all now, tonight, before sunrise; we’re vomiting lightning as we reach out for the raindrops on each other’s skin. There’s dying in our eyes. But today we’re beautiful. Use up all the words you have.
I remember it all. Not in the right order. But I remember it all. The feeling of the ground as I lay on it. The fire in my chest. I remember it all. Putting it together differently with lots of tape. You’re looking back and you’re not seeing it. Not the plot I weaved out of all the arbitrary events. I remember it all. We are a story now. And we look at it from outside:
You: Then where was that love when we needed it most?
Me: If only I wasn’t so afraid.
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This world tosses us through the air, juggling our lives between its hands. And we lie. We feel our stomachs going queasy and our visions getting blurred and we pretend to be sure. But we don’t really know. If this is indeed sheer happiness or only the giddiness before it gets bitter. We are clinging onto this rollercoaster with white knuckles and dishevelled hair, while blood rushes to our head. And it doesn’t really matter. If we’ll get off alive. Because we are here for this ride only, for this is the only thing we feel. This is the closest we can get to reality. However nauseous it might make us feel, however surreal it might seem. This is the closest we can get. And I want to get even closer. I know my limit. And I haven’t reached it yet. I’m in for the bruises and the scars. I’m in because that’s my idea of how life works. It’s totally worth it. The tossing, the turning, the flying, the falling – it’s totally worth it. I wouldn’t trade this rollercoaster ride for anything. It’s the closest I can get to what I think is real.
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