jumping off the edge, and, if you cannot fly, inevitably, crashing.
you pull yourself, half comotose, to the only place you know - the edge - and you stand there until you come to, on the edge, like you've always been. you jump off the edge again, crash, and return. each time, upon impact, a little retrograde amnesia, so the freefall is more like a hazy dream.
did that really even happen?
yes, it happened. you jump, again and again. you will never stop jumping, until finally, one day, you soar.
madness.
beautiful madness.
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