Friday, November 14, 2008

Broken Glass

All right, this is going to seem a lot more emo of me than usual and I apologize for this.

There's this bit of broken glass sitting in the soap dish beside the bathroom sink. Whenever things get a little too fucked up I'd look at it and go 'If everything goes to shit I've got a way out'. The trick is that deep down I know that I'm not brave enough so I'd never even touch it.

What is bravery anyway? Is it bravery when you've got nothing at all to lose? Is it bravery when you've got everything to lose? Maybe it's both; is the beggar mugging a someone using only his words less brave than the soldier putting his life on the line for his family's freedom? Mind you, this probably isn't a very good example.

But the problem with knowing that there is no way that I'm brave enough to do anything is that I don't know myself very well.

Just recently I looked down at the bit of glass remembering everything I've ever seen or thought of things like that. None of that seemed as bad as the nothing that I had left. 

I needed to test myelf one last time though.

I picked up the sharp little bit of glass.

I ran it across the tip of my index finger.

It was plastic.

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