Glass Ball Shattered…
Gray is the day that breaks me out of my Glass Ball existence – breaking, shattering irrevocably the transparent walls that have kept me safe, kept me isolated, kept me whole.
Broken, yet finally aware, I wake up and sort myself out from the shards of my former life. I can’t go back now – can’t put the pieces back together, for they would never hold me now.
I step out, shaking and trembling, as the very filaments of my being for the first time begin to feel what it IS to feel.
I step. I falter. I fall...
Bruised, but determined, I get back up, press on and test my newborn legs.
A thrill of change ripples through me – a river of incongruency and imperfection that in its flaws achieves a beauty far superior to my Glass Ball life.
Yet it brings with it a tinge, a cringe, a twinge of a pain that hides its face and refuses to be named.
Am I lonely? Do I miss my Glass Ball life?
These feelings are new to me, too pristine for me to know how to understand them.
Before, everything was black and white, day and night, darkness and light.
Now, I don’t know good from bad, glad from sad, sad from mad.
But now I can feel… something.
I have no name for it yet, but it is finally, imperfectly and yet perfectly real.