Thursday, October 02, 2008

A Question Of Balance

But in the grey of the morning

My mind becomes confused

Between the dead and the sleeping

And the road that I must choose

Sitting on a fencepost in the middle of a field, I stare off into the distance. The wind is calm right now, gently blowing the crops in long waves across the plains. It wasn’t long ago that these very fields blew furiously and the stinging rain beat down on my face. I was close to falling off the edge.

You can tell just by looking, there are two very different fields on either side of this fence. The three of us have occupied this space since birth and may do so until death. EZ stands on one side and Cheese stands on the other, they beckon me.

Cheese stands in a field of golden blissful wheat, shouting to me. Falling onto his side means fun and happiness, but also naivety. The problem with letting him take control is his suddenly one-track mind. He now only cares about excitement, going out, getting laid and making jokes, all of which is fine, but he has lost his edge. He used to be the one who kept EZ at bay, he was our defender. But, EZ has been silent for some time and therefore Cheese has become weak. If I let him have control he will piss it away…he will destroy us. The absence of constant adversity has caused his knife to dull.

He has become worthless.

EZ stands among the scorched and salted earth, silently staring at me. The fire burns behind him as well as in his eyes, rage consumes him. He knows how close he was, he was almost there…he could taste it. The stiff winds nearly knocked me into his eternal grasp, but then they subsided and I regained my balance. He has nothing to say, there is nothing he needs to say, we both know the truth…the time is close at hand. The recent lack of pain has only sharpened his hunger and his will.

He has become a monster in waiting.

P sits alone on the fence and for once he does not hear the cries of his adversaries. He is no longer weak, no longer at the mercy of the whims of his subconscious. There is an ally, a sworn defender of the real me. In the past he submitted to them out of weakness, fear and having nowhere to turn. The ally has given him an exit from his own insanity…given him a place to run to.

But they are still present.

As much as my new friend gives me strength, I can’t help but think that P…ME…is tottering back and forth on the fence. Guarded optimism and a hope that one day I can walk away from this field and down the road are keeping me sane. These small pieces keep me on the fence, this is a time of peace but, a prudent general spends peacetime preparing for wartime.

I shall do the same.

One day things will once again crumble, thus is the natural cycle of life (or mine anyway). Until that day I must gather my thoughts and sanity and I must hold them close. I will be prepared for battle with my own mind; P will not be a pawn…I will raise the sword, prepared to slaughter my own mind. The next time I will be ready and I will no longer be helpless. I will not sit on the fencepost…I will stand on it, in defiance. I will balance on the fence as I walk away from the enemies on either side.

For now I will bide my time and keep myself from falling off. When I am ready I will proceed, but for now it is merely a question of balance.

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