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{July 26, 2012}   Living on the edge

Standing on the edge..so much on the border that a slight single push throws me down the cliff. And I cry and howl and my whole life flashes across my eyes and I pull myself up holding on to a rock on the edge. Yeah, the same typical movie scene.

Everytime a different rock, sometimes its the optimism and faith dangerously embedded in my system, sometimes the new activities I started – either sweating it out in the gym or theatre or studies, sometimes some momentary good news and other times just the plain need and convenience of me staying put and not disturbing entropy of universe … these rocks keep varying in nature and strength but yeah they do pull me up all the same. Leaving scratches and bruises physically visible and otherwise, instilling a fear in me and making me used to the falling at the same time.

When I am back and returning to stability, I curse myself that why couldnt I maintain my balance. Why the f**k could’nd I be stronger. After all, I ll be back to the same position and situation soon after.. why move from there then at all. Why make everyone see that I had another fall? Why have another “distinguished” bad day?  WHy hve another opportunity to write a depressing post!

 

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