oh, how the not-so-mighty have fallen...

i was reading my posts from december of 2004 today, and a terrible thought struck me.
i have taken several steps backward from that point.
i was emotionally aware, i was searching for hope, i was at least willing to consider the wonder of the world, if not to bathe in it.
now, i won't even look at my face in it's reflection for fear that what i see might give me hope.
what is it about hope that i fear?
it's not hope, it's the rock of which i am afraid.
if i am looking into the water when the rock falls, my image will become distorted and i will be afraid.
if i am in the pool when the rock falls, it may crack me on the head and i will be lost forever to the depths of hope that have an undercurrent of impossibility that is more treacherous than most care to realize.
if i'm nowhere near the pool, i most likely won't even hear the splash from the rock, won't have to wonder what the sound was and what it might have to do with me.

the downside to this is that the pool is clean, and fresh, and pure, whereas i am stumbling around the forest, dirty and dishevelled, wondering why nobody wants to get close enough to touch me.

still, i fear the pool. there are others there, and i fear others. my silence makes me ever more uncertain, ever more unsure. and i don't know how much dirt will be allowed... it would be horrible to step to the water's edge only to be told that i can not swim for fear of contaminating the pool and tarnishing the other waders.


is this just me being a coward? is the only cure for fear the blind acceptance of the thing that causes that fear? am i stronger than i imagine only once i step out of the imagination that keeps me bound to weakness?

there's food for thought.
i'll stop there.
and think.

critique

tango.
foxtrot.
look at charlie
dance.
bravo.