Collision

Going over the Brooklyn Bridge, watching reflections collide in the window. Fast, ruthless, and inevitable as life. My life. Controlled chaos, hurtling forward -barely evading disaster- on tracks I'm no longer sure are of my own choosing. There are entirely new vistas opening on every side and I'm moving too quickly to be sure of the choices I'm making. There have been turning points recently that seem altogether inevitable and perfectly reckless, a force or momentum drawing me irresistibly forward, and in my helplessness there has been a kind of wild joy and vulnerability . I have never felt this vulnerable in my life, this susceptible. Soon there will be a split in these tracks and I'll find out if I have the nerve to relinquish my death-grip on control and learn what it means to risk a collision and emerge -still breathing- on the other side.