Heights.

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Welcome to another instalment of my metaphorical monologue. I came to a little epiphany today, I’ve felt like I was falling for a long time, such a long time that I don’t even remember when I jumped. It a never ending fall but yet i can still see the ground, see it mocking me, taunting me. As if it’s always close but never close to enough to hit. Upon that confusing ground there’s an occasional mattress, when I feel something is going right, it appears. However, for the most part it isn’t there at all. So I’m left falling with out even a measly mattress to catch me. Though through exploring this epiphany, I’ve found another inside it, a epipha-ception if you will. That maybe we’re both falling, me and the ground. If so that means one of many things, I can continue to feel like I’m going to fall forever or I can speed myself up and risk hitting the ground with or without the mattress. But then suppose the impact doesn’t crush me into a human pancake, what next, i’ve grounded me self on something solid, but what if there is other grounds, other mattresses, other places. This is confusion I feel at the moment. I know where I want to go, but I don’t know a certain way to get there or what will happen afterwards, despite the continuous falling, that is the most terrifying part of all.

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