There’s nowhere to go but up.
That’s often what people tell their friends when they’ve hit rock bottom to comfort them. We don’t tell ourselves because there’s no actual light at the bottom.
But what if you aren’t at rock bottom but simply floating through time and space, trapped in an infinite loop of sameness?
That’s how I feel. Likely many of us feel.
Not depressed. Not overjoyed. Just neutral. And I’ve learned it washes out my skin.
For the most part, I am stable. The way a rolling office chair is stable. As long as I’m not stuck in one place, I remain seated. But every now and again, I need to test the boundaries on how far I can lean back.
A hint of danger.
Nothing that would make anyone worry about my stability per se. Just the usual break in routine — a spontaneous trip to a new far off destination, a night out drinking in abandoned warehouses sneaking away to scale rooftops, sporting fake tattoos at biker bars to see if the type of guy that hits on me changes.
It does.
I guess that was the first hint. I never cared much for men my age. A little younger and a lot older were…
