фрагмент повести "Martini for Hawkeye" №2

A diary page, written in red pen: The other day S. asked me about that song... "Fallin’ & Flyin’"... well, I butchered it — I told him so — in the original it was: *"Funny how fallin' feels like flyin' for a little while"* but some time ago I just... well — tired of being lost? and remembered — remembered my teachings — that WAS hard, *really* hard — you must lose your grab on reality to fly — and in the beginning it most definitely feels more, WAY MORE like falling — because you NEVER FLEW BEFORE — you are just losing everything one by one, all at once, grasping at thin air — at clouds — but nothing is there — ... like you know, Aikido - the way of the EMPTY HAND - to FIGHT WHAT, IF NOTHING IS THERE? It is not there! — you and fear — and the fear IS YOU — mostly YOU is made of fears of any sort... just tumbling with yourself in an existential dry-cleaning machine. And this alcohol-infused blues about the falling it's... well it's not even a start — it's fear in itself — I don't judge — I've been there... well I do judge — I do tend to be harsh... or I was... all that is left is this sucking feeling you get when you're standing on the edge of the Hoover Dam — wind and curve of concrete — the verge of it. It never called me — although I maybe wanted that too much — but later I realized — my deep sucking vast within is what made me want to sacrifice myself for the others — now gone — maybe I grew up — now I feel that the sky is now not below — the sky is above. And you don't need to stand on the edge of the dam to just grasp the feeling of being alive — so to fear to live is the desire to die — the fear of flying is the aspiration of falling. Because flying is way, way more than just the opposite of falling... which the song lacks, lost it — just never intended to be... because flying is the courage TO BE.