If I were fearless, what it would be like? The shocking bluntness of my remarks, the neck-breaking laughter, laughter of a madman that fears no thing and no man. What would I say?
How about now, shell I just start now? What's with the what-iffing and waiting? Am I afraid to be fearless? Absurd. Terrifying. True. The beauty of that falling, following a path from which there is no turning back. That has to be my last acrobatics, my last step, step into the abyss; from there all there is left is free falling. Nothing to do anymore. No planning, no doing, just falling.
Falling.
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