The fork in the road that I stand before carries uncertainty to my pursed lips.
Brow raised, mind wide, I open the soul shutters I’d fastened for years.
To the left, my brain, run rampant with reason and drenched in high waters half clouded by time.
To the right, my heart, lustfully longing for what it can’t find, and screaming of now as if now was forever and time had no purpose and love had no limits.
To choose one path, but only one.
The hardest task a man must do is to give up his passion for comfort, or to lay down belongings for truth. The two cannot go hand in hand without strife. Any attempt at balancing such beasts would only result in a dissatisfied man.