Could it be… could it possibly be just a notion, created entirely in my own head – each thought that I have dared to take apart, and now it lies threadbare. In its nakedness, it is no more a compulsion, and just a choice. But the question is, must I choose it? Would that be destiny or an informed opinion?
For the first time since the first time, I have a doubt in my mind. I have no clue how it formed, but I can trace it back to an artwork, an expression. This world lavish in its synchronicities as ever, has brought this thought my way for my consideration. It makes me weary; every decision weighs on me with potential karma, and I don’t want anything to do with that bitch. She has eaten into my heart, and nothing remains but a pound of flesh stung by a jellyfish, pulsating as a result of a lethal cocktail of unraveling chemical reactions.
One, for introducing me to the sentiment itself, and one for acknowledging it with honesty – here lay my two choices. In choosing either, I make no difference to anybody’s lives really, because neither is waiting for my answer. Such is the tragedy, but I scoff at it. A choice nevertheless, would take this story forward. What is that quote? Intelligence or maturity, or some sort of virtue in that league, meant nothing but giving up your current anxieties, the demons that haunt you in the present, and trading them for a future filled with the more complex kinds to ponder over. How exciting, how enticing. I ridicule it, but build toward it anyway.
I have not yet made up my mind.