Me Myself & Regret

where the sidewalk ends

there is a place where the sidewalk ends;

And before the street begins

"And there the grass grows, soft and white"

"And there the Sun burns crimson bright"

"And there the moon-caller rests from her flight"

"To cool-in the peppermint wind"

These are the words of "Shel Silverstein", acclaimed children's writer and poet.

Let us think for a moment.

What if, by some stretch of the imagination; there was a place-where the sidewalk ended?

And for the sake of the argument.

Let's say the street ended there too.

What do you think would happen if you were to just walk of the edge?

How long would you fall for?

Would it be for the rest of eternity?

Or would there be somewhere at the bottom where you could land?

I've  ̶s̶e̶e̶n̶  heard stories in the past about how people falling from buildings tend to die before ever hitting the ground.

Or at least they faint or maybe die from shock;

Something along those lines.

But for anyone insane enough to stare death in the face and say

"Sure, take me if you want-"

I wonder what the collision with the ground would feel like.

I can't imagine it would be very good.

If for some reason, though. You managed to survive the impact.

And a friendly  ̶A̶n̶g̶e̶l̶   ̶D̶e̶m̶o̶n̶  Passerby helped push your bones back into your body-

What is it that you'd want to see there?

Could it be the "Silence I seek"

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This entire scenario is hypothetical, so it could really be anything you'd wish for.

I mean, you did walk off the edge after all.

So there must be something you were hoping to achieve or.....find?

or feel.

Now. I'm not saying Shel Silverstein's works are meant to  ̶p̶r̶o̶v̶e̶  convince children that it's okay to jump to their deaths.

it's not.

But poetry is something where we are meant to interpret on our own meanings, 

and come to our own conclusions.

Oh,  I forgot to mention. The very next line of that poem is "Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black."

So yeah

Anyways, the sidewalk probably does end somewhere.

The street too.

But the likelihood of there being anything beneath it-

A place where your legs could shoot through your upper body if you landed at just-the perfect angle

The likelihood of something like that, simply does not exist

But you do.

Or do you?

And if you don't-

that's unfortunate.

I look back to where the sidewalk ends. To find it doesn't end at all;

It's just as the  ̶c̶r̶u̶c̶i̶f̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶g̶i̶r̶l̶  Voices said- a tunnel.

So then, why did I see it as something so much different?

Is being lonely different from liking being alone?

Does it suit  ̶m̶e̶  you?

Or is it because I make it suit me.

What does that even mean?

Being lonely suits me

Well I can tell you what that means

It means that people can get by on their own.

Truth is. You don't have to listen to anyone's advice; or know anyone in general.

But having people around isn't such a bad thing.

...

There is a place where the sidewalk ends.

I can't guarantee that You, me, or  ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶c̶i̶f̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶g̶i̶r̶l̶  can find it.

But it's there.

And when any two of us happen to find it at the exact same time.

We will either jump together-

Or one of us will give the other a push.

I don't want to die.

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