You think it will be. They prepare you for it to be. They give you rules to follow, so that you don’t have to think enough to be afraid, but just do what you’re told. And you’re good at that, so they like you. And you’re cleverer than they expected a boy with no schooling that’d give you a slip of paper at the end of it to be, and you turn out to be not-too-shitty with machines, and so they like you even more, and they put you into the sky by the end of the month.
[ He’s just letting words fall out of him, not really filtering them too much. It’s- a new experience, and it’s so tempting to hesitate and consider his words better. Find something better to say. But he made a promise, and he cannot lie, and maybe too many words is better than too few. ]
When you run, there’s a moment in each step when neither of your feet are on the ground, and if you tilt in just the slightest you’ll come down wrong. It’s- a little like that, but more. Further to fall. More time for shit to go wrong. All of your insides want to stay on the ground, and it feels a little like your brains are dribbling down into your boots, and your head goes too light to be afraid of anything at all. And it’s cold. They wrap you up in so many layers, even though it’s only just september, and you only understand why when you’re there and you see your breath come out in puffs. And the air is wrong, you have to breathe in so much more of it to make your lungs pay attention and stop fucking whining. But it’s a whole world of your very own, and that’s worth just about all of it.
no subject
[ He’s just letting words fall out of him, not really filtering them too much. It’s- a new experience, and it’s so tempting to hesitate and consider his words better. Find something better to say. But he made a promise, and he cannot lie, and maybe too many words is better than too few. ]
When you run, there’s a moment in each step when neither of your feet are on the ground, and if you tilt in just the slightest you’ll come down wrong. It’s- a little like that, but more. Further to fall. More time for shit to go wrong. All of your insides want to stay on the ground, and it feels a little like your brains are dribbling down into your boots, and your head goes too light to be afraid of anything at all. And it’s cold. They wrap you up in so many layers, even though it’s only just september, and you only understand why when you’re there and you see your breath come out in puffs. And the air is wrong, you have to breathe in so much more of it to make your lungs pay attention and stop fucking whining. But it’s a whole world of your very own, and that’s worth just about all of it.