From Rust- S of C.

From rust have we all succumb- Then something happens-it becomes a choice, one we all can make but only for ourselves. To fester and decay? To run and hide in the shadows of our fears? 
Not I, No more, I have seen both sides of the sphere. I lived as both. I have sat opposite of myself at the table of existence and watched her carefully. 

I got up slowly and switched seats.  With a precise keenness, I watched even more cautiously. Only then did I make the choice. At long last, barely able to walk, the mirror a loathsome creation i braved- and I have become the excelsior- one foot in front of the other, clutching at surfaces to remain upright at first, like a babe beginning to walk. At first it was much more stumbling in the dark but then I worked harder, fought bravely. 

I looked behind me once, maybe twice at the decomposition- the decay and from what I saw and I knew well enough.
 I was assured by this that I wanted no more of it. 

It pains me to look upon those that I love, the ones who have yet to make a choice and by default make a choice every moment that they refuse to make one, they to stagnate in their own unique misery. 

It came so close for me to no longer have that power to seize that choice. 

Another comrade fell this week.

This is not child's play.

I knew that when I chose to become what I was. I did it anyway. I feel, unfortunate as it may seem that it was absolutely necessary for me to put my face in front of a rabid dog and be bitten in order to understand the unfathomable repercussions.

I open my eyes in the morning around a quarter to eight. 
I climb still farther away. 
One foot at a time sometimes with agility, sometimes treading light and steady during waking hours. I close my weary eyes at night. They have seen and understood enough for one day. 
Tomorrow the voyage will be waiting. 

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen