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urge overkill

Michael considered fate at 12:36   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment

Like when I walk across the Williamsburg Bridge and I have to fight the urge to climb the fence and jump.

Man, I get that all the time. I mean, I've never walked over the williamsburg but I can't help the feeling of jumping whenever I'm on high. I can't help the urges to jump off boats as you slice through the ocean waters. I can't help the urge to careen off the edge of the world right between where the cliff starts but the guard-rail is still a few feet off. I can't help the urge to stand up on a table in a crowded bar and scream.

But I never do it. Not any of it.

I can't help the urge to not let up put push harder on the gas pedal and go smashing into the retaining wall. I can't help the thoughts that race through my mind as I stand atop a 40 foot paint ladder leaning out over the roof trim with a gallon of paint in my hand. I can't help the knife, in my hand, that twitches ever so slightly towards my arm. I can't help the internal destructive force of nature.

But I never do it anyway.

I can't help the urge to set everything on fire and watch as the inferno burns to the ground. I can't help the desire to turn on the water faucets and watch the house flood. I can't help the need to chase a dog till it's drained and panting and asking for mercy and then chase it a little more.

But I don't, not like I want to.

Of all the wants all the desires all the need it's the little ones that count and so I just bottle all the urges up and every once in awhile when I'm just tipsy enough or just scared enough and the time seems to stand still I lean over, look into her eyes, and I kiss her. I send all of the urges into that one action, my way of living on the edge, one day at a time. I kiss her.

26 and I still get butterflies when I try to kiss a girl. I don't know what sort of statement that makes about me but, I'm not complaining...

For now, it's saving me from jumping off a bridge.