A snail crosses the pavement very slowly, despite the perils of such a journey. It might be a short crossing, for it might never make it to the other side. Or it just might. Boldly does it go, flinging away doubt, relishing ignorance.
Might we not take our cue from the humble mollusk? Must we question too much when instinct always has a solution? There is a journey to be made by us all, and we are unable to anticipate the true destination. Ignorance is bliss, making the progression sweeter, with anticipation our only ally, our lone company.
Venture forth, brave and true. Because when you are certain, and your will is strong, you can never be wrong.
I feel as if I could spend the rest of my life trying to understand. I am not mentally reconciled to this condition. A condition that is mine but I fear to associate with for further jinx. You cannot understand, and even if you do, the complexities remain mine alone.
The faculties of reconciliation is my burden, akin to that of Atlas. Your solutions could never sit well with me, because I am stubborn and do not know how to relent yet. Am I missing insight? Will inevitable death offer better explanations?
It isn’t necessary for you to understand the process, because I am often alone and singular in deciphering the problem. But I thank you all the same. Not for noticing, because you did not. But for being part of the picture, not the problem. For being part of the reason why I still decide to go it alone, in a bid to one day figure this shit out without sacrifice.