April 19, 2026
“belief is a wise wager; granted that faith cannot be proved, what harm will come to you if you gamble on its truth and it proves false?” — blaise pascal
we place our bets in shadows and in light days whisper wait; nights scream ignite a biased coin between the timid and the bold a dopamine euphoria; a realm safe but cold
there are those who bet large; the shattered, the vast there are those who bet small; the held, the steadfast and both are the same underneath in the end a life was wagered; another breaks to a bend
a great bet burns; it asks for blood and blame it brands the heart with loss as much as fame still, in that blaze, a brighter truth is cast reveling a life that is colorful, wide, fast
a small bet hums that keeps the head neat it trades the wild unknown for an easy beat however, in that calm, a quieter ache will grow the ghost of all the things you will never know
we wager love the same; too fierce, we break too guarded; no bond of worth will we make to give is risky; to withhold is even more pain two regrettable losses; two shades of vain
the human condition is both and it’s neither to live is to be both the candle and the breather the small life is tragic; the large life is grief yet, both will get their peace as a fallen leaf
so here we stand; between less and more with every breath, another unseen score we grow out our cages built from fear or shrink to fit the doubts harbored near
the wager was placed before we knew the game and the table is living; and mystery is the name a pulse that asks, as all infinite waves do be penned, secure? be big, broken, and true?