There is a crystal, beautiful moment in time when everything is just flat line.
Stasis. Nowhere to go, nothing to see, nothing to be.
Outside of it all is loneliness
But silence
When you can hear only the voice in your head
Speaking the purest truth out of a cacophony of lies.
Perspective from an improbable purgatory
That sheds light on the darkest truths and
Brightest falsehoods.
Then the mirror shatters because
Moments cannot last and
Time insists.
The topography of memory is dangerous,
But it provides a useful map –
Not of where one must go
But of where one has been.
Do you choose to retread the familiar land,
Or do you look for new ones?
To walk off the edge of the map is
To walk off the edge of the world.
Who is willing to explore with me?
