I was standing on the edge of a decision. A decision that needed my immediate attention. Teeter-tottering if you will. I was trying to find out one good reason why I shouldn't just end it all. Right here. Right now. Then my fucking brain, the cerebral guide kicked in, as it always does. The choice it had was to terminate. To cease and desist all forward moments and memories. Of course, he took it a little personally. Started saying things back like; you mean to tell me that this is it. This has been what you lived your whole life for up to now. This pathetic little insignificant moment. For this moment of your own selfish, self-glory. This is how you want people to remember you? Some sad young fool who didn't even finish his life properly or give himself a chance to see the difficulties through.
Now at this moment, it was hard to not really hear what he was saying. There was no point in reasoning with him. But part of me inside my body kept saying, you're ready, do it. You don't think about it too much. You just go for it. You also hope that when you hit the water that everything turns black and you don't remember a thing. All 28 years of it and beyond. But you know that someone will mention your name occasionally and how what a shame it was you did this to yourself. That if you could have thought of the consequences, you wouldn't have done it. But life has a funny way of waking you up even when you think you are wide awake for it all. It's true what is said about how when you are high up above it and the whole city is watching when the open sky and light beckon you there is a moment of hesitation. There is a moment of doubt.
What is life worth anyways? Is it worth your watch? All the money in your bank account? Your car? Your friends? It's a series of twists and turns. Characters change. Introductions turn into familiarities. Sometimes even monotonous routines. People still die and people still live when you're gone. The world never forgets because you are a part of it but you remain some part of vacant history. Some fleeting glimpse of a hole with nothing in it.
So I hesitated, so what? You would have done the same thing if you ever brought yourself to this. It was a better idea then all the other ideas I had that involved jumping in front of buses, trains while mothers and daughters waited to get on. Who wants to see that. Up here it's just the sea, the nothingness and me. So I am weak because I second guessed but would have been weaker had I pulled through with all my might.
I know I wouldn't have wanted anyone to come to my funeral and see me all bloated and disfigured. Then fell alienated because all that would be left of me is a shell. This vehicle that drives us all home. I'll just blame it on my insanity or the full moon or my parents. It'll be easier to divide up all the pain into tiny little fragments and hand them out to millions of different people. I could even make a pie chart in my will so I can give little slices to everyone.
I guess one thing for sure. It wasn't time yet. This just all started. This whole process. I could fill you in on the who did what, the when and the how it all happened but then I would have to write a book the size of the bible and I am sure that my perceptions of skewed, distorted, misconstrued.
I could write all about it but it would all just amount to a fucking accident and even then everyone who sees it has their own idea of how it all went down. Even just narrowing it down to ten people still fucks up the whole thing. One man would say that there was a car involved, another woman would say that the pedestrian caused it but running right into the road throwing rocks at the drivers. Someone else would claim terrorism was the cause, then to counter balance that the terrorist would actually be a government official. Ideas are dangerous, but accidents will always happen.
I also remembered, again.
I forgot what it sounded like when the wind blew through trees and birds swooped and soared in Indian Summer Skies.
Quite triumphant sounds even when you have your ear to the ground listening to the echoes speak.