sugarbean555

Falling down

I have spent a lot of time analysing both “falling” and “flying”.

• Taking leaps - courage
• Jumping into things - courage & spontaneity
• Falling in love - bliss
• Growing wings - growth & freedom
• Taking flight - freedom

Quote: “Sometimes falling feels like flying”
(apologies as I don’t know who to credit for this)

A little background:
After 9-11 I found myself drawn to, and fascinated by the tragic tale of the “The Falling Man” (WTC – NYC – 9 11 2001).

Esquire article here: http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ0903-SEP_FALLINGMAN
(*image below*)  

In fact I have been working on an essay:
“the fallen – an essay on the taboo (a personal exploration of suicide)”
.. which was sparked by personal events and the mystery surrounding the search for the identity of the “falling man”. I also followed the many discussions and articles (about the man and about suicide) that followed the photograph being published.

I am in love with the falling man as he jumps with such grace.
I am in love with the falling man as he seems to have committed to the act with dignity (because of the tragic reasons we all know so well).

So if I haven’t finished my essay.. then why am I talking about this?
Well, because today; I find myself falling.. and it is not a positive thing.

Maybe I should add that I am cursed to be both a chinese dog and an aries ram. I am not really someone who outright believes in astrology (don’t get me wrong), but I am obstinate (like the dog) and I do run around bashing my head, irrationally, against walls (like the ram).

And that, combined with my child-like enthusiasm and oversensitivity, results in a dogged fiery personality that can light up, and also burn those I love.
And so, that means I fuckup relationships.. (particularly after little sleep, 5 cups of coffee and no food by midday).

I run around chasing shiny things with all the might I have in my soul.. until I feel that they’ve disappeared or darkened.. and then; I literally fall down broken.
Into an abyss, and it is dark and doesn’t smell very good.

So, this is where I find myself today..

After feeling so honoured that my favourite place (in the world) featured my photographs on their website (not even very good photos).
After fantasising about sleeping on rooftop gardens in New York.
After taking one little step towards opening my bruised heart. 

I’ve fallen,
into the abyss,
Again.

I am a very practical, logical person, and I’ve analysed and over-analysed what it is that breaks me.. I know that when my soul is flying wildly, it means that it is more open to pain and I lose all sense of reason.. and then I allow the smallest hint of darkness to batter it, and that’s when my light goes out; and my core stops glowing and I fall down.

And it is dark here in this, and as tough as I am, I am afraid.. because there is no light.
Not even a little glow.

So, finally.. today, I have come to the sad conclusion that:
NO, falling doesn’t feel like flying.. It feels like crashing.

For me, falling is a result of flying, and flying always end up with me broken at the bottom of the abyss.

AP Photo/Richard Drew/FILE - via
http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ0903-SEP_FALLINGMAN

I am here.. for whatever reason & for however long & who knows why..

Yea, I guess that relates to life.. life in general.
But I also said this to a special friend recently.

As all is transient (as I’ve rudely realised at this stage of my life); the one thing I can be sure of is that everyone.. leaves me.. eventually.

I wrote something a while back about “fun” being overrated and how I’d been blessed to find an un-fun-obsessed (little bit bruised) soul, such as my own.

Well, I’ve been most fortunate that my oftimes inaneness, arbness and darkness has not scared you.

I know I’m too intense, too sensitive and a little bit scary.. and that I get a bit confused. I also know that most don’t understand (nor care to take the time to understand) but.. you do.. and you’re still there/here.

People scoff, and wave away online friendships.. as not being “real”; smirking.. they roll their eyes. Yet none listen as you and I do, like children, to each other and (as much as possible) to the world; often wide-eyed.. excited, inspired and even, at times, angry.

So we: a bit confused and a little bruised, like only those who have faced their shadows can be, are still here/there.

This is not a very well written tribute to my special one; if “we” do prove to be fleeting.. then so be it, but now and forever.. you will always be with my heart MonHart.

You and I - Ingrid Michaelson »