Dinosaurs

Until you've been on the edge of extinction, you've got no idea what it means to be alone.  The meaning of alone only comes on the brink of singularity.  When the room full of people is just a room full of people.  When everything else falls away and it's just you and every single doubt in your mind; when nothing justifies the ends- the means are the means and that's all.  

Alone is hard to be, but it's a tolerable hardness.  It's a hardness that you can grow accustomed to, given enough time and enough thought; enough silence.

And just when you begin to near that edge of extinction, there is a point when every silent tear means the world- but only ever to you.  Isn't that the point of silence?  Like everyone, my eyes hurt when I cry.  And that's when I cry more: for relief.  Because I finally feel all the tiredness that I usually keep beaten back closing in on me. 

There is a uniqueness, an aliveness, to prodding your own boundaries and pushing them just so you know.  There is a strangling reality to finally realising that you're broken; that the exhaustion is closing in.  And that you might not be unbroken again. 

Unbroken is hard to be.