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Accounting for Everything: Where I Have Been
Where I Have Been
I have been to the mountaintop. And I saw the lay of the land.
In a scotch-filled dream I was handed the combination to a safe I longed to crack. Within moments I was too terrified to open it.
Inside are answers, feelings, realizations to dreams. Perfectly balanced and stacked in recognizable piles. Labeled. Ready.
I cannot read them. I cannot, will not open this file.
Why can't the figures add up to the number in my head? I want it all to fit. Why can't I hit my emotions against the amount in my heart and make it even out?
In a racing, motorcycle dream I am rounding a corner, leaning, my knee scraping the pavement. Heart pounding, eyes shut. Don't brake. Don't brake. Don't even gear down.
At the finish line he is waving. I smell my chain smoking, the rubber on my tires melting. Someone is standing beside him and I can't make out who it is.
Next; the finish line?
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