Waiting for the Axe to Drop

Sometimes I find waiting for a thing to happen is worse than the thing that actually happens.

Waiting for the Axe to Drop

It hovers above me

So far it could be a stream from a plane

But I know what it is

A silver blade, waiting, biding its time

It hangs like an omen, like a cliche

As I walk, it follows me, everywhere

You open your mouth and the blade quivers

It prepares to drop, a free fall, slicing through the open air

But you hesitate and keep our secret a bit longer

And so it waits

And so I wait

Eventually I know you must confess

The axe will drop

Blunt but piercing, the truth will cut through me

It will take all the strength my heart has left to stop the blade

Offering up arteries and vessels and chambers

Catching it just before it kills me completely

Observation

I am watching myself. Like an observer hovering over some experiment with a clipboard and pen at the ready. Did I go too far? Did I tip that scale where stable elements suddenly lose all stability and head towards escape and chaos? I am waiting to see how this will affect me. Too far in one direction and I know I will need to pull back, alter a few elements. No change? Then we will proceed. Although most likely with trepidation. One probably should not experiment with the heart or mind, but I will stand here with my clipboard and wait for the results.

I Do Believe in Magic

Today, just for a little while, I experienced magic. Perhaps it's because this week marks the release of the final Harry Potter film that I am especially nostalgic about all things magical and muggle in nature. As one of my most beloved stories comes to a close, I will surely relive in the final moments of the film the heartache and longing for more of J.K. Rowling's world, as I did with the books. As I have with all books that have transported me into some other world for however long the pages last. These kinds of stories are the kind that convince me that magic is real. Not the kind of magic that comes from the end of a wand, but the kind of magic that is born inside when one finally realizes that there is something greater, some epic purpose to our lives, something beyond our understanding. This kind of magic is awakened someplace deep within and grows like tiny branches of lightning until it reaches my fingertips and toes and eventually my eyes so that I can no longer hold back the tears. This is the kind of magic I experienced today. For a few hours I was immersed in stories yet to be told. Stories that traverse worlds I have never seen, encounter people I have never met, but that hold truths that harken to the world in which I live, all the while begging me to explore that which I don't know. Movies are magic. And today I was completely overwhelmed by the magic that comes with working in this industry.

I Am Not a Robot

Dear Chelsea,

In case you were wondering, you are not a robot. You are a human being. You cannot be programmed for perfection. You can be expected to make mistakes. You wear your heart too easily on your sleeve, so yes, you are bound to be hurt. You will move on though and time will take care of everything. You can stop freaking out now, because you are human, and that's okay. You are not a robot. Remember this.