Some people like to live on the edge, they take chances, risks and it is only then when they feel most alive because when you stand on the precipice, there are no second chances. I've always felt that way when faced with heights but only then life's choices are simplest.
Thank you, those tiny number of miniscule you who acknowledge my existence , when you can or where there's fuck all else to do, THANK YOU. I''m really grateful to you because, hey, you amount to the achievement (however minor) to which I've always aspired, to connect to people who think.
Municipal officials argued the city needs a symbol, a monument. So they commissioned artists for ideas. The winning entry was a 120 meter tall, stainless steel, pin-like structure. Oblivious to the irony of a city devastated by a heroin epidemic, they called it The Spire. Dublin people call it The Spike.
The jewelry warehouse is surrounded. Apart from the SWAT team and the K-9 unit, there's an entire squad of uniformed personnel whose sole task appears to be crowd control and the deployment of barriers. 'We have him,' the lieutenant says, gleefully. Standing beside him, pockets bulging, Mary can only chuckle.
His words resounded with sincerity, they rang with meaning and truth but she knew, from bitter experience, how action's note carries a clearer sound where light resides in transparency and lies, however attractively adorned to soothe, assuage or persuade but can never prevail and will always be revealed as opaque.