I'm tromping down a path, lain in the shadows of a forest perpetually smothered by fog and choked by inky darkness. My careless footfalls belie my willful disregard of the occasional sign, placed along my path to warn of the imminent danger. This path did not begin in this forest. I can hope it only passes through.
Sometimes the darkness and cold mist crowd in, a claustrophobic nightmare. They flood in, filling the lungs and drowning out the distant sounds of joy originating from places distant and far more pleasant. I continue my path with measured intent. Be it towards an unforeseen cliff or greener pastures, I am uncertain.
Why do I continue this path? I could reverse course, choose a side track, or even stop momentarily in an attempt to gain my bearings. Instead, I continue onward, blindly into the aether. I know why, do you?
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