Peering over the Cliff Edge
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"You want to learn me?" "Jax, let me call you." "Have I ever lied to you?" "You'll be face to face with reality." "Will you marry me?" "Will you serve me?" "Will you own me?" "Will you kill me?"
I wonder if they realize that they are showing me the edge of a cliff I keep vowing not to jump off?
I want to understand them. I want to learn what makes them tick, what makes them human and mortal and imperfect and beautiful. I want to understand what it is that I see... sometimes I think that the only way to know myself is to understand why I love who I do, why I hate who I do, why I need who I do.... they are a mirror.
And at times, a doorway... I step through, and the world becomes a different place entirely. I can see, briefly, the things I keep from myself normally. I can feel, briefly, sensations that I so often deny. In short, vicarious existance... a bad habit, but one so sweet, so tempting... it's a drug.
That cliff edge, that leap of faith... it really is a drug.
Read this. It hurts. It is supposed to hurt. She found the cliff edge.
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