My Greatest Fear
Sometimes I worry that something from inside my head has escaped out my mouth without me knowing it. Like talking in your sleep, but awake. When my mind wanders, nowhere really but someplace else, and I am then returned by an expression I can’t place and I think, my god what did I say to cause that expression? What crazy shit seeped from my thoughts like: A radical modification is what drowning would be. An ending in which my existence would stop, my actions would cease and this nasty condemnation of freedom would no longer result in decisions that project me towards a drowning. A circle sliced once becomes a line with a sure beginning and a lasting end Nothingingness sitting on either side. So I say nothing and eventually the expression morphs into un visage I recognize and the conversation I wasn’t present for continues, like a movie with no sound. How beautiful some people are with no sound. And my piano music takes over the scene and my eyes feel as though they are wide open when they are undoubtedly closed. And then I’m gone again. But the only thing imaginably worse than drowning is a straight line, lacking any upward trends, no breaks between beginning and end, no alterations, no change. Therefore in my chilly depths beneath the surface, I survey my options. And what if I talk in my sleep, too? And all these private conversations between me and I were unintentionally revealed? My only hope is they were fragmented to the point they can’t be made sense of, or perhaps in a different language. Like Mandarin, or Greek. Then it could be written off as miscellaneous, mumbo jumbo. There is only one element that determines the present and that is the future. Only the future can turn back on itself and designate this exact instant as a rupture from the past. An end that in turn becomes a beginning and modifies the future. Changing my intentions. Altering my existence. Shifting the focus onto another possible line. I have to live in order to prove my freewill, if only to choose to be something else. Drowning, no matter the beauty of the silence, would be just that: an end to a melody. Yes, that is my greatest fear, that out there they know what is in here. Sometime someplace something somewhere leaks out and takes shape From thin air.
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