Wasn't sure which picture to post today, having only just begun delving into photography I have a limited library at my disposal. This wheel though is important to me. Nights not so long ago spent in one of the yellow or red carts, spinning round and round as my whole life swung from one extreme to another. It would always stop at the top and my cart partner would pretend to be scared because he knew I couldn't say that I was. I never told him how scared I was about everything, how teetering on the top of a wheel over the ocean on a dark night was a metaphor for how I felt about us. I should have fallen into the black water then, jumped while I still could. Instead I stayed and held my breath.
I guess I have a theme to this blog, a theme threading through about not speaking up, not doing what you really want to, swallowing your own voice and with it your life. We all know the metaphor about not clinging onto the edges but letting go and letting the river carry us, trusting it. Its hard though, when your nails are dug so far into that rock and the water underneath is moving fast and thick, hard to fall into the darkness and have faith that we will be led to the light. So we stay on the sides and we stagnate, and at the end of our lives our mouldy little carcasses fall into the water and some part of us weeps that we didn't do this when we were alive.
Nobody is going to save you, nobody is going to come for you and peel your hands away from the stones. Nobody is going to open your mouth and look for the words you wanted to say.
Fall. Please fall. Save your own life.