November 27th, 2010
Breathing is better than screaming. He takes a step forward, and twelve steps back. Procrastinating life's inevitable instances, prolonging.. He is pushed to take another step forward, but instead moves to the right, questioning whether if he should have stepped to the left. Doing his best to find a middle, a balance, but struggles enough with foreseeing the unforeseeable. He refuses to accept the impossible as an option, just the possible, probable, and challenging.
Pressure builds with each obstacle, he can make it through this one, but how long will it be until one more comes. Has he even measured whats coming next, does he even know where to look for the subsequent direction, or is he traveling blindly? He'll never know, whether it's dream or reality.. All he knows is the obstacles ahead are something to pass the time. Who cares what it is, who it is, or even why it is.. The fact is that it just is, and he needs to choose to fight or flight, sink or swim, breathe or scream.
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