I am on the verge of doing something about my life; fear is no longer a viable motivation — knees pop, back dull pain, hips constantly hurt, eyes strain. Every answer from my body is electric pain. I cannot force myself to care enough myself enough to fix it, I rely on magic and God step to me. I engage my endless supply of faith that everything will resolve itself in time.
I am recently learning to overcome — and not just physical pain. I’m beginning to understand overcoming everything: I often wonder what they will ask; what they will do to me once the time comes that I overcome time. What questions will they have for me when I am 100 years in on my life sentence? Or when I wake up on the table in the medical examiner’s office after receiving a lethal injection … I am on the verge of flight, on the verge of invisibility, the verge of immortality, the precipice of self-realization, the cliff of self-actualization, the edge of eternity.
A manifesto away from publication, perhaps… I often imagine what will be asked of those who knew me, and what will be answered by those same people. Then I remember that those asking the questions, those answering the questions, as well as those hearing book questions and answers will be dead in a century blink-of-an-eye, and their feelings with them. In a few thousands of years they will be molecular again, and in one million years, so will be this rock we inhabit.
Yet and all this smog of dark knowledge, I am on the verge of success. I am on the verge of truly, knowing what it means to be happy and successful. I can feel it. I can feel it right here … In front of me, right now! | YC