The brink, the cusp, is a strange place to be stand. You can see where you came from & where you're going, but you're not sure what you think about either. You know who you were & who you could be, but who you are is a constant question. This is the cusp of the real & the imagined. The future pulls you in while the past holds onto you, and your present feet waver under the pressure. But the more things change, the more the important things -- the depths of things, the truth of what things are under the cover of darkness and despite the overwhelming laughter and muddled cries of frustration, along with the love and laughter that is the essence of life -- they stay the same.
I'm standing on the cusp and wishing I were stronger, and knowing that I'm never going to change.
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