No. No questions.
Strength. It is difficult to sustain.
From where I stand: nowhere to go but down; but I know that isn't true. That's the whole point. But it's there. The cliff is there, and I know I can let go of the rope entirely instead of climbing another fucking step.
I fear showing weakness. And I do not fear weakness itself, for I allow myself to be weak when necessary. But to display unadulterated weakness. To no longer be able to share true weakness because of who I have become. Each step I take is constructed. Planned. Designed. Weakness, crafted. I did not account for what would happen when I would not want to craft, create, form intelligently. I did not account for a chaos I would not want to structure.
Everywhere I go, I am greeted by strangers who already speak my name, who already know my initials. By the time I arrive, I am already somebody. To try to impress would be counterproductive; it was not why I did those things in the first place, anyway.
So I don't. I ask. Surprise me. Not because I need it, and not as some sort of sick way of judgment-calling a person, but because I want to hear the answers. (Do I?) I expose myself so they will expose themselves. (Should they?) What are their gifts? What can they do? I ask because I am genuinely curious. (Am I?) I have to; this is me wanting to know, I wouldn't ask if I didn't desire to acquire, and I make sure they know this because I am afraid of the consequences of them not knowing. (Are there any?) I fear the loss of information. It is all meaningless outside of discourse. (Is it?)
My profession, now: to prove that I am not to be feared. (Should I be?)
I am not a superhero, I am just a man who does some bullshit and writes about it. But I do, and I do for me, and I do for them, and if they want to do, too, to do for themselves, to do for others, then I will do all in my power to make that happen.
I am not permanent; thus, I am everywhere. Who are you, now? Oh, God, where are you, now?