Every morning I wake up and flip a coin. Today, will I live jaded? or naïve?
Either way it seems that the coin falls face first and I’m left to decide whether or not I saw which way Fate tried to pull me. Push and pull, push and pull, She’s as unrelenting as the tides that govern the boundary between land and sea.
Pull me in, push me back, I’m stuck in this beautiful limbo, where my feet dance on the sandy floor and my head floats just above the surface of a gloomy ending. Yesterday leads to tomorrow and I’m holding on for dear life with no idea how much longer I’ll be chained to the shores of the swash zone, left to he vices of the tides. Every day leaves me exhausted and yet as the sun falls and the tides recede I am given a taste of hope while my feet dry and I sit on the shore, waiting for the inevitable fears of tomorrow. The days are always long and the ground soft at best, yet dry land is always within eyesight.
The temptation to lose myself to the currents is strong and yet the rewards of what control can bring are a constant source of faith. But until I’m freed from the haunting of this boundary, I must ask myself if I want to live a jaded existence, or give myself naïve hope that tomorrow will finally be the day to walk tall once more.