There are so many paths I wish to take. Each one like an unread book high up on a shelf, beckoning, tempting you to climb up and pull it down, tuck yourself into a corner, and only reemerge once you have read each page thoroughly. If I could watch each one play out in my head, start to finish, just like that book, I think I might know which path I should have took.
But I might spend all day reading each book to see what future lies ahead without taking into consideration the time not so well-wasted dreaming of all the reasons I never should have followed the paths that led me to where I have been and wish to forget. Instead, I would fall victim to their pre-recorded charms, forgetting all the lessons learned through all the thoughts I spent so long thinking on.
Perhaps I should consider another path then. One well-crafted and created, spun from all the thoughts once spinning in my head. Follow them out along their own path with paper, scribbling, and scrolling, until they form a conclusion still not said. Bind it in leather and tie it with a bow; that path can now be added to the ones on the never-to-be-read list.
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