It's odd how fast it happens. Fell head-first into a strange miasma of space and time. I woke up knowing that somewhere in the night I had crossed a threshold of hermetic knowledge that from that point, going forward, nothing will ever be the same again. I didn't realize it happened until there was no turning back; even if I wanted to, even if I could, there's no question in my soul how pointless back-tracking would be at this point.
I'm bad at deciding what I want and not planning the journey of getting there. I just put on my boots and start walking. I conveniently forget about the beating sun, stinging rain, whipping wind, and endless trails to anywhere. It's ok, I guess, to wander for a while: you learn, get to know yourself. And if you're like me, you need a lot of wandering before you know what your destination is.
Don't stay safe. Safety is an illusion. Comfort is relative. In the wild, everything is different. The dirt on your face cleanses you of the things that hold you back. The wind erodes your falsehoods. The rain fills that hole in your self, and you can see your own reflection. The sun restores your natural rhythm. Spend enough time wandering and you might just find yourself. Step across the threshold of truth and self-knowledge becomes evident.
It's a strange death: knowledge, and truth. We desire them, but run from them. Once I stood up to my self for myself, they caught me, and now there's only one path, one trail, for me. This time, I don't know where it goes and I don't care, because it's me.
I'm not good at planning these things, I just like to put on my boots and hit the trail. I admit, I'm a little scared; who knows what's out there? When I find out, I'll let you know. No going back now...