Into The Abyss

It's not as much a call to arms, as it is a call to legs. He meant for them to get up and balance on theirs. Deftly taking steps, small at first, but with poise and intent. Weak from decades of neglect, they're at first, best at simply wobbling about, flapping under the weight from above. But with time, they remember the cadence.

They're running now. I can see them in the streets. Though steps filled with intent and poise have turned into stomps of criminal intent and poison; a visual cacophony before us all. Chaos is a word too hackneyed to properly encapsulate the blur of escalation that is occurring. Like slowly walking down a steep embankment inevitably turns into an uncontrolled sprint, and an eventual failure to keep pace with gravity. Face, meet earth.

The sudden stop takes away your breath... and leaves your face numb, with watercolors of green and yellow floating over your field of vision... like the unavoidable bruise that will soon paint your nose and cheekbones. This, a clear sign that you let yourself go to far... and that you need a lesson in restraint.

I, on the other hand, could use some passion.... so you've said. And, again repeat as you pick up your chosen weapon, and depart down that steep hill once more. I suspect you will be surprised upon your return, with a face bruised almost as badly as your ego.

But green and yellow will undoubtedly relent to purple, black, and finally flesh again. Bones heal, and egos forget past failures. But these things are only true under the most normal of circumstances. And these, my friend, are not normal circumstances. So, proceed with caution. This new path is unpaved, and is rife with danger and uncertainty.