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    November 29

    There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line.

     
    The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask "Why me?" and "What if ?"
     
    When you look back and see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or forked lightning. If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you.
     
    It would be someone else looking back, asking a different set of questions.
     
    fulmine
    November 20

    darkly dreaming...me

     
    19112007735
     
    A lonely whisper in your ears...
    says the things you don't want to hear