I Wonder

I wonder how much larger a rim is than the basketball it lands in.

That is to say, I wonder at what point it was determined the end goal of a game was challenging enough.

Each act has a threshold. The world is far more black and white than made for tv movies might wish you to believe. A light may be dimmed, but light is light, without qualifier. The threshold is darkness, pure and true.

Sometimes I will stand in the shower and pretend to cry. I shut my eyes tightly and clench my fists. As I let the water wash over my face I let out a small, stifled cry, the manifestation of a breath attempting to escape a restrained chest. Slowly I will lift one hand to my eyes to wipe away the water, but my face never dries.

I am willing to believe that each of us in unique. Unique means many things though. My car is unique from his, I might say. Unique how? Mine is blue, his black. Mine has a CD player, his has the distinct smell of cigarettes.

So how am I unique? Does my doppelganger exist, but with blue eyes? Does he like hiking? Is he a woman?

What if there is someone that shares every characteristic: here is our cd player, here is our smell of cigarettes. Must one of us fail and one succeed in order to maintain the cultural norm of uniqueness? Must my career path change to allow his to survive?