Trembling Edge.
MHRA | February 2026
Y’all don’t know this yet, but this little space of mine — is a quiet corner where thoughts spill, ramble, and sometimes catch fire. Here, I speak without polish, without expectation, and maybe, just maybe, someone else will see themselves in it too.
Is that asking for too much, I don’t know.
But here, another ramble fresh off the press.
Y’all don’t understand that this blog is really my baby, my lil quiet corner.
I guess I’m still somewhat shy about having my deepest thoughts in front of a ton of prying eyes, like with idle time I cower behind lines embossed by metaphor and rhyme that gloss over and aestheticise how I feel half the time.
Who knows, maybe it might be the fact that the rawness would be the catalyst for their departure from whatever image they had of me, so I guess here is where I let myself breathe, a pressure relief valve to a degree.
And maybe it’d serve as a mirror for those who’ve felt like me…
So maybe it’s not transcendence that we’re after, but rather recognition.
But that means staying, even if it’s with a trembling edge, even when it feels like incoherent rambles after hours of cyclical conversations with self in my head.
For a while, I thought you’d have to have the perfected voice, the manicured image, and the algorithmic gods behind you to have a voice worth listening to. Many would try break it down to a science into quantifiable values, me included, but honestly we’re the determining factor, our perception of it all.
You can engineer growth and the metrics, but you can’t engineer connection.
So really, what are we after?
I guess for me I was always told by peers that I was someone with a message, a message worth sharing, whether it’s felt by the few or the many.
I guess the narrative I told myself was that I was merely a conduit, a translator, a tool to make manifest. But I’m still unsure of whether that was a mission or a sentence and whether it was in alignment or not.
But you know they say all misdirection is redirection, with a lesson serving as evidence. All in preparation, of what exactly I’m not sure. As delusional as it seems, I do believe there’s some kind of higher purpose for it all, for us all, as long as we stay the course that is, even if we serve as mere strands in a great tapestry.
We all serve equal importance, for a chess game isn’t only won by kings and queens, most of the pivotal moves are made by pawns.
So I guess for me my mission is playing my hand the best I can with the cards that I was given in hopes to make something grand, whether or not the canvas lies unfinished, at least an attempt was made.
Beyond that what else could I say or ask for, outside of being grateful of growing pains.
Every experience shaped me, the fire tempered my blade, a common stone met a mason and a masterpiece was made.
Damn…
Mom, He really is Rambling Again.
Oftentimes we’re sold the tale that external means of attainment and validation is what determines our value, but in a world where we all can curate an image, we’re reminded that we’ll always be the same, Human that is, character however is what separates us.
For better or worse.
So I guess true transcendence is of the dogma and of the self, and truly regressing back to that little boy or that little girl.
Till next time, whenever that’ll be…
- Rich
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