I miss the apocalyptic approach of the horizon.
The hunger is the same, but I can’t muster the same
impending sense of doom. I could run
straight at it and still never come close. An ending at this point would be
nice. I used to crave invisibility. Now I know the beast will find me regardless,
but without teeth.
The people who are closest to me all use the same word:
accept. Not as advice, as
explanation. Somehow I am both of these people;
somehow I see both of them.
There used to be a chart.
I had it for a minute, but it was important so I threw it away
eventually. The chart was a circle with
arrows pointing helpfully. I think there
were on ramps and off ramps too, but I can’t exactly remember them, which is a
terribly ham-fisted metaphor, but totally true.
