Post by Mizagium on Jul 15, 2013 1:21:27 GMT -5
Hi.
My name is…well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what my name is. You probably know me as Skyhook. So, hello, my name is Skyhook. I’m a super and I—I like to fall.
That probably sounds weird, I know, but let me start off by explaining: I can fly. That’s my main—I can do other stuff. I’m stronger than normal and I think I see better than normal. I call it “hawk vision”, but I don’t know the details, whether it’s higher or lower than 20/20 (which is better?), but it helps when I’m flying, which, like I said, is my main thing.
Again, I don’t know the specifics of it like how fast or far or how I can withstand those speeds. Some of us keep up with stats like that, but not me. I don’t really care; it’s a lot of numbers that amount to “I can fly and beat people up” and that’s good enough for me.
But…right. Falling.
Sometimes when I’m out…just flying…I like to go as high as I can, beyond the mountains and clouds and the weather, where the air get so thin you start to black out—and then I go higher. I go up to where the curve of the Earth falls away and the empty black void of space stretched out before me. And with the stars and the sun and moon around me…I exhale the last bit of air and let go. There’s a long moment where I hang there, before gravity can take hold of my body, and I think maybe I’ll just float away into the night…
And I fall.
I used to black out from the friction with the atmosphere, but now I don’t really feel it. I don’t really feel anything while falling, and maybe that’s the point: Falling is freedom. I don’t have to do anything except let gravity carry me to the ground.
I like to imagine that at the end of my fall, someone is waiting for me, arms outstretched, ready to catch me. And they smile and wait patiently to catch me and carry me away…but I never make it. Each time I get closer and closer, but I always pull up and away and flee.
And then I feel guilty. That person with the outstretched arms, they were waiting for me all this time—I made them wait and for nothing. In the end, I’m flying away from them. But I know that person will always be there, each time I fall, smiling, patient. Each time I fly away, guilty, I know they’re not mad at me, and that…I don’t know. And it scares to think that I feel like that, but the sensation of falling…
I need it. It’s the most calm feeling I have ever experienced. I’m never more at peace than when I fall.
But I know one day I won’t pull up. I’ll fall into the waiting arms…and I won’t fight it. I’ll let them carry me away. One day, I will fall to my death. One day soon.
My name is…well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what my name is. You probably know me as Skyhook. So, hello, my name is Skyhook. I’m a super and I—I like to fall.
That probably sounds weird, I know, but let me start off by explaining: I can fly. That’s my main—I can do other stuff. I’m stronger than normal and I think I see better than normal. I call it “hawk vision”, but I don’t know the details, whether it’s higher or lower than 20/20 (which is better?), but it helps when I’m flying, which, like I said, is my main thing.
Again, I don’t know the specifics of it like how fast or far or how I can withstand those speeds. Some of us keep up with stats like that, but not me. I don’t really care; it’s a lot of numbers that amount to “I can fly and beat people up” and that’s good enough for me.
But…right. Falling.
Sometimes when I’m out…just flying…I like to go as high as I can, beyond the mountains and clouds and the weather, where the air get so thin you start to black out—and then I go higher. I go up to where the curve of the Earth falls away and the empty black void of space stretched out before me. And with the stars and the sun and moon around me…I exhale the last bit of air and let go. There’s a long moment where I hang there, before gravity can take hold of my body, and I think maybe I’ll just float away into the night…
And I fall.
I used to black out from the friction with the atmosphere, but now I don’t really feel it. I don’t really feel anything while falling, and maybe that’s the point: Falling is freedom. I don’t have to do anything except let gravity carry me to the ground.
I like to imagine that at the end of my fall, someone is waiting for me, arms outstretched, ready to catch me. And they smile and wait patiently to catch me and carry me away…but I never make it. Each time I get closer and closer, but I always pull up and away and flee.
And then I feel guilty. That person with the outstretched arms, they were waiting for me all this time—I made them wait and for nothing. In the end, I’m flying away from them. But I know that person will always be there, each time I fall, smiling, patient. Each time I fly away, guilty, I know they’re not mad at me, and that…I don’t know. And it scares to think that I feel like that, but the sensation of falling…
I need it. It’s the most calm feeling I have ever experienced. I’m never more at peace than when I fall.
But I know one day I won’t pull up. I’ll fall into the waiting arms…and I won’t fight it. I’ll let them carry me away. One day, I will fall to my death. One day soon.