A Winding Trail

I think that people are all very similar. Somewhere along the path of our good intentions we get hopelessly lost, and by the time we realize we can’t go any further forward, the trail of breadcrumbs behind us has disappeared as well. There is no direction that we can take to undo our movements. We end up in a place that’s unfamiliar, uncomfortable, unhealthy. The best thing to do once you’ve arrived is to look around and hope that you haven’t been followed, which is hardly ever the case. We always share our poor decisions, like we’re drawn to the pyrrhic beauty of their impact. As if somehow being lost isn’t so bad if you’re not alone.