What is it that we’re waiting, here, at this same spot, in this endless moment, for?
With one step left to move forward, we’re standing still. Without the ability to muster up the courage to just stretch out a hand hesitantly, we hover on the brink--yet never make a move.
But the question is: For what?
Were the dreams too unclear? The flashing lights not bright enough? The fevered desperation not hot enough? The all-consuming NEED too deniable? The truth too unrealistic? The path too clear? The mountain too high? The path too simple? The way to travel all too clear---
The Answer too freeing?
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