Warped by the pressures of life, it seemed that the limitless life that we were offered on the day we were born was slowly placed into boundaries. Infinity placed in a box, which is consequently placed into a smaller box and so forth. Apparently an unrealistic idea but then again, so is the idea of infinity where one's perspective of continuity is placed to the test. I'd like to think that we have a purpose in life, not aimless in our journeys or our actions but if that we were so, I would think I would dislike knowing that my life has been mapped out simply because the concept of choice appeals to me. Maybe it is not our goal in life but the way and the method in which we reach it that ultimately defines us. But from this deep hole that I have involuntarily chucked myself into, I cannot see the way out, let alone the "path well-taken".
I think I'm shamefully wallowing in my self-pity but as the sun rises in the lives of others, I can only feel the despair that undoubtedly accompanies it, just as winter follows the best seasons of the year and as Persephone follows Hades. Charmed? I'm sure. The cynicism in me outshines the rest of my more worthwhile traits but without it, how would Hope even matter? Maybe the last to leave Pandora's box was ingenuity at its best because who would need Hope if the skies were always blue, the grass were always green and the sun always shining? Tilting the scales on which life hangs upon evidently would not be the brightest idea. Gosh.. that was a spill-over of waffle. Maybe I'll go sit in my corner now. Look for that lone thundercloud in the sky - it might not lead you to a leprechaun and his pot of gold, but you might just find 'yours only' amidst the dominating shadows.
