Dear Life,

I am hanging on by the tips of my fingers. All the shapes and the sounds don't fit into my mouth, so I'll make this lament a brief one. The past three months- while not tumultuous when measured by the trials and tribulations of others worse off than me- have been quite rocky. I am hanging on the by the tips of my fingers, and you seem to want to ensure my demise. Such harsh words, but, dear life, you stomp on my poor fingers as I struggle to cling onto this narrow windowsill. There's only a few inches worth to hold on to! I look down... carefully, and see the day-to-day crowd carrying on. The hustle and bustle of passersby... self-involved and indifferent to the ills of the brooding. You can be so cruel to me life. Quite unfair and unflenching when kicking me in the ass. I'm hanging on, teeth clenched, sweat starting to percolate on my forehead. I look up once again. focusing, desperately trying to pull myself up, over, and in. I'm trying to get leverage, my feet flailing in the air. Suspended. Desperately wanting to meet gravity, but now you send pesky pigeons... flying and flapping about my head, as I flail at them helplessly, with one hand, holding on and grasping for you with the other. You. Will. Not. Defeat. Me. Life! Regaining my equilibrium, both hands re-planted on the windowsill... adamant and defiant, I look down once more. I see the white rabbit that lured Alice tumbling down the black hole. He is tapping his foot impatiently, lamenting about his being late, as he checks his pocket watch. I see him disappear down a manhole, situated right in the middle of traffic, zipping by in each direction. My fingers start to slip. The manhole is gaping, wide, and black... waiting for my descent. The manhole licks it's lips. A large, pink, wet tongue. Waiting, in greedy anticipation, to swallow me whole. I am mortified but determined. With newfound vigor, I grunt and groan as I hoist myself up, pulling myself over the sill and onto solid ground. I made it! I made it! I didn't fall. I'm triumphant. Chest heaving, heart beating rapidly, I smile- (an uneasy victor)- at my having gotten over yet another hurdle. Now what's next life? How about a warning next time? I hate being ambushed.

Sincerely Confused, Me.