precariously balancing...

comfortably ensconced in the walls of 2025 williams, you would not think of my life as being lived on the edge. but it is, very much. for every day looks like it might be the last of its kind. tomorrow could bring on something entirely new, unhandleable, and what would life be as a result?

i want to break free, but from what, i do not know. there's this voice inside that asks, constantly, what is all this for? i work, i sing, i write, i love, do lots of other little things that are of no real consequence. of no consequence. what is the singing for?

love, i dare say, makes a little bit of sense. it seems to me as god's way of saying - here's your life with its meaningless little details, and here is love to guide you through each of them.

but what if this too changes? i wonder everyday, or when the rut of my meaningless, mundane world will let me. a boat in the ocean, precariously balancing itself... in a second all could be lost.