Flying before the fall


I am doing everything that makes me suffer but I’m doing them with irrepressible glee, like falling in love for the first time and knowing undoubtedly that you will get your heart broken. You plummet 9 stories down knowing the shatter of all your pieces will be too painful to bare but before the crash, it all just feels like your flying. I’m going from day to day on air, made of acid clouds. They burn me, but they keep me high. Sometimes what kills you can make you feel so alive, or a least remind that you were once alive, and living. Not just in flesh but in spirit.

Is there a form of happiness that costs nothing? Can we live without consequence? I have not found it to be so yet. The hangover of happiness is worse than death but it cannot detract from the fact that there was happiness. At one point, you were happy. It is important to remember this because when the crash comes, when the pains of life seeps so deep you can’t feel anything else you must shift through all the sorrow and find that moment where you were flying, unafraid, happy, and know that it can be that way again.


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