I tend to get ahead of myself. Not ahead of myself in a "right then she's gone over the deep end with ideas" sort of way but more of a "she's got a future persona who jumps through wormholes and gives her intelligence on what to do and not to do" way.
Unfortunately, this future persona who jumps through wormholes and gives her intelligence on what to do and not to do is entirely "un-forthwith" [making up words] in information. And maybe that's a good thing, present M decides, as knowing things usually tend to lead to choices.
Ahh, choices. That's the rub here.
Good choices, bad choices, outlandish choices, what-the-hell choices, possibilities, more possibilities, decisions, an unending string of possibilities that tend to swallow each other in the giant maw of hindsight. This choice leads to this and this choice leads to that and this other choice leads to both this and that. Choices, choices, choices, choices. That's all they ever say and that's all they ever want to know.
Ever feel stuck fast to something? Someone? Cosmic irony?
Ever feel like you're right on the edge of discovering something truly profound, yet all the while there's a gnome hitting you on the head with an absurd pair of dull sardines hoping the elusive truth won't quite come to you? Well, maybe not. But the sentiment is the same.
It's like I'm aware, deep down, that something's about to break; there is a certain expectancy permeating the air at the moment.
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."
Because that's the rub, isn't it? Two paths diverged in a wood...and I took one of them. Maybe not the one less traveled. Maybe the one everyone else decided was right and true. Then again, maybe I took neither--maybe I foraged ahead and bushwhacked my own trail. The thing about it is, I don't really think there are black and white choices, decisions, possibilities; in fact, I think they're infinitely limitless. Cause and effect, the close comrades of hindsight, rear their gruesome bulbous heads in a fashion each time. See, that's the thing about this metaphorical road, endless possibilities. It's true that when you step on to the road there's no knowing where you might be swept off to, there's no knowing the outcome, good or bad, no knowledge of what is to come. Sometimes it leads to mushrooms. Sometimes it leads to lovers. Sometimes it leads to terrible endings. To new friends. To loss. Sometimes it's a bit like hope. A bit like expectancy. But how will you ever know if you don't venture out? If you don't step onto the road you sure as hell aren't going to be swept off anywhere. You'll just rot in stagnancy.
Choose a road, choose a path, just choose. Decide.
"It's late, the road is long. Yes...it's time."
Half thought out,
M
Ever feel like you're right on the edge of discovering something truly profound, yet all the while there's a gnome hitting you on the head with an absurd pair of dull sardines hoping the elusive truth won't quite come to you? Well, maybe not. But the sentiment is the same.
It's like I'm aware, deep down, that something's about to break; there is a certain expectancy permeating the air at the moment.
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."
Because that's the rub, isn't it? Two paths diverged in a wood...and I took one of them. Maybe not the one less traveled. Maybe the one everyone else decided was right and true. Then again, maybe I took neither--maybe I foraged ahead and bushwhacked my own trail. The thing about it is, I don't really think there are black and white choices, decisions, possibilities; in fact, I think they're infinitely limitless. Cause and effect, the close comrades of hindsight, rear their gruesome bulbous heads in a fashion each time. See, that's the thing about this metaphorical road, endless possibilities. It's true that when you step on to the road there's no knowing where you might be swept off to, there's no knowing the outcome, good or bad, no knowledge of what is to come. Sometimes it leads to mushrooms. Sometimes it leads to lovers. Sometimes it leads to terrible endings. To new friends. To loss. Sometimes it's a bit like hope. A bit like expectancy. But how will you ever know if you don't venture out? If you don't step onto the road you sure as hell aren't going to be swept off anywhere. You'll just rot in stagnancy.
Choose a road, choose a path, just choose. Decide.
"It's late, the road is long. Yes...it's time."
Half thought out,
M
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