Contemplating spiraling downward into the abyss; I stare at my fate from the precarious ledge on which I stand. The slightest breeze could hurl me into the depths of darkness and despair. Whispers from the open window urge me to come back inside, but they are also urging me to jump as well. Confusion is a symptom of something greater than I realize. With hope comes fear. With the lack of hope comes complacency. With all things good, lies a hint of bad. A dove flies overhead. I envy it's freedom. The whispers are becoming louder to make my choice. "Does it really matter?", I ask the dove. With a simple glance, it flies away... Seemingly ignoring the profundity of my question. As do I...