Riddles

It’s the little things that matter.

They say that a butterfly beating its wings in China will cause a tornado on the other side of the world. One of the strongest, most agile creatures on the planet is the flea. A baby in danger will enable its mother to lift a car. The smallest cuts always sting the most. The most offhand comments leave the deepest scars.

The slightest twitch of an eye, lip, finger, leg. A minute shift in weight, gaze, direction. The wording of a sentence. All weapons to be used, information to be exploited, if only the signs can be read correctly.

One wrong move, one wrong word, the wrong look at the wrong time, and everything changes.

It’s the little things that matter.

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Transition

The world is most beautiful when it sleeps;

when the chaos and noise slip away

into dark bliss,

and the darkness falls down

as a curtain on the stage,

and dreams come.

A moonless night shows gems on the earth,

fallen stars burning on the ground,

a wonder to see from high.

And though we say that beauty is to be seen

and not hidden away, stolen from the world—

perhaps this is best.

For what would we become if,

by some random chance,

we left the day for the beauty of the night?

If we were to leave this realm for good,

ignoring the other wonders of the world,

for one passing glory?

Or maybe we should take this path,

moving on from the world we know

and into darkness.

Contingency Planning

We know the process.

It begins with a great idea or that dream goal that we know deep inside we can achieve. We can see it standing there before us, just out of our reach. We want everything to run smoothly, and we know our end goal, so we begin to plan. And plan. And plan.

We start with the obvious things. “Well, this will probably happen. And maybe that could, too?” And we make sure that we know what to do about the big things. But then we find ourselves being sucked in, becoming more and more worried with each new eventuality that might occur, each less probable than the last. Before we know it, we find that we’ve planned on what we’re going to do for individual words, gestures, thoughts, until we find that we have so many things that could go wrong that we no longer believe our dream is attainable. “What if?” is the question we keep asking ourselves, until we hit every last minutae and are convinced that we know what we’re going to do if this went wrong or if that went wrong. We have plans for every single possible thing that could go wrong.

But what if it never goes wrong? What happens when we avoid achieving our goals, not because they might fail, but because they might succeed?

We need a new solution.

Door jamb

You’re walking down a long hallway. It is dimly lit by dusty old oil lamps hanging from the ceiling. The floor is a dark hardwood, the walls unpainted. You walk along on a seemingly neverending journey until you reach a closed door at the end. This door is a portal, and if you step through it you will become the very person you wish you could be, the pinnacle of all your own dreams and ambitions.

What does it mean if you step through this door and remain unchanged? Does it mean that you are purely content with who you are now? Or does it mean that you can never escape your fate, no matter whether that is to be condemned to walk this world alone or to become everything they’ve never dreamed of, to be better than they ever thought you could?

Or does it mean that sometimes a door is just a door?