Roads, Kites, and the Abyss
The road and the kite are my questions, my defiance, my proof.…not because I understand, but because I refuse to stop. In the abyss, I run.
Two memories haunt me: a child frozen at a road’s edge, heart gripped by dread, and that same child racing after kites, wild with joy. These are not mere moments but metaphysical wounds, where the fabric of existence tears to reveal an abyss. The road is a line between being and nothingness; the kite, a fleeting rebellion against gravity’s truth. In their absurdity, they expose the human condition: we act, we strive, we defy a world we cannot fully know, chasing meaning in a cosmos that offers none.
The road was terror. As a child, barely awake to thought, I stood before it, sensing a reality beyond the cars and dust, a shadow-world I could not grasp. The fear wasn’t just of death but of the unknowable, the thing behind the veil of my perception. To cross was to step into a void, to gamble with a truth that eluded me. How does a mind, unformed, feel such weight? Not through reason, but through the pulse of being itselfa raw encounter with the boundary of existence. Each step across was a defiance, a refusal to let the abyss win.
The kite was freedom. I ran over rooftops, through thorns, chasing a speck of color that danced against the sky. It wasn’t the kite I wanted but the act of pursuit, the moment where I was more than flesh, unbound from the earth. Yet the truth stung: every kite caught fell to earth, a tangle of string and ruin. The joy was in the chase, not the capture a fleeting triumph over a world that pulls everything down. To chase was to claim existence, to scream into the void that I am here, even if only for a breath.
These acts are absurd. The road demands I cross, though it may crush me. The kite demands I chase, though it will fall. Both are gestures in a universe that does not answer. I perceive only shadows, cars, kites, a world shaped by my mind while the real remains hidden, a mystery I cannot touch. Yet I act. I cross. I chase. I rebel against the silence, not for answers but for the act itself. This is the human curse: to seek meaning where none exists, to move through a world that cares nothing for our striving.
From the stars, my roads and kites are invisible, a child’s fears and joys lost in the cosmic expanse. A speck of dust, this earth, holds all my longing, all my defiance. The universe is vast, indifferent; my life, a flicker. Yet in that flicker, I am. I cross the road, trembling. I chase the kite, laughing. I write these words, knowing they will fade. Each is a rebellion, a spark against the dark.
To live is to act without promise, to weave meaning from absurdity. The road and the kite are my questions, my defiance, my proof. I am alive…not because I understand, but because I refuse to stop. In the abyss, I run.