The Frosty End

I long for the swollen feel of fresh powder crunching beneath the base of my skis....a stacatto release of crystalline-induced failure and compression transmitted upwards past my bindings, boot and femur, entering my sensory system, reminding me that this is the only truth.....the path up the ridge that blows snow across the cornice into eternity somewhere over the mauve-peach-vermilion sunrise of the painted desert, melts all worries and gripes born inside walls....walls preferred by people who do not live but through vicarious inclinations, exploitative meanderings and armchair pontifications found in Entertainment TV and Facebook.

At this moment, nothing matters more...this stochastic analysis which has occurred since mankind became self-aware. Nothing will ever be as important than this feel and thought....a sharp run-down of risks vs. consequence....benefit begrudgingly relegated to third place.

I dream of the sharp end where I feel only the risk...and manage to find a path forward. I struggle with a world in which I see only benefits and force myself to temper my decisions....and I envision an outcome where the paradox is balanced...but it is just a dream...for any balance we may find is hoisted upon gossamer hopes and happenstance. We are all victims before the rules are fully explained...I was dead the day I was born and I'm a victim of my own prejudices......but when will the two become one?

I don't have a say in this final question...it is one of many things I can not control. My only hold on this process is that I might push out the inevitable until I am long worn from the struggle on the frosty end.