I don’t second guess myself much. I am much more of the impulsive kind, and the impulses have worked out well until now, I think.
But when the stakes are high, the impulses get weak. When jumping could mean dying, your legs give in. Even though you know that you are attached to a cord, that you are gonna be safe, that the most thrilling time of your life is just 2 feet away, your legs give in.
I never figured myself to be of the kind that liked consistency. So away from change. But its nice. Maybe it is not nice, but at least it is easy. When the comfort of the world is in my reach, why would I move? When I seemingly have nothing to prove, why would I even care? I despise myself today, a little. Maybe because it is the easy thing to do.
I would not be writing this, if I did not have a second thread in my mind. The part which sees myself in the league of extraordinary men, men who have done things right by themselves and right by this world. The part that thinks great things of my potential and fantasizes about seeing me realize each one of them, whilst the world everyday proves how grossly limited my capabilities are.
It’s the part that craves the nights, where you are just staring out at the world in front of you, from a high-rise balcony, or a mountain, or a deck at sea; cool breeze in your nostrils, you inhale deeply and breathing out you try to flush out the scared / excited feeling. When you know the morning is to bring something new to you. When you just can’t prove that everything is gonna be absolutely fine.
It feels like I need a rope around my waist, to balance my trapeze act. And what better rope than a reality check with intermittent day dreaming?
Wish me luck!