It’s not like I don’t want to be here, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being here. In fact, sometimes I really enjoy being here. It’s just those other times that make me think twice about being where I am; and what can be worse than utter confusion? It’s like being sandwiched between novel prospects and bitter memories. It may lead a person to an undiscerning decision.
“Hmm, what decision?” you ask. You know, the one about being here or not. Well, before one can make a logical decision, one must first know a little something about this place, and what exactly goes on. Peace is now, for here is where our fact-finding journey begins.
As you travel down the road toward your destination, you find that as time ticks endlessly into the future, the road narrows until it’s down to an undersized gravel pathway. Crossing a primitive wooden foot-bridge, you find yourself in a different world; welcome, you are here.
As you turn back to gaze at the bridge, you see that it is no longer there; for it is said that once you enter this visionary utopia, it is beyond your power to leave. Oh, but you don’t want to leave anyway.
As you stare at the vista in front of you, the meaning of paradise promptly shines through, only to be fractured by your impatient footsteps. You walk into the surroundings, feeling the individuality of your existence in what seems like a painted portrait.
Once again, you turn back with a heretical gaze, and suddenly lose yourself in the near future, looking through your past. A cool wind paws your skin, scolding you out of your vision, causing you to titter at what is behind you. You begin a slow trot, making sure that what you leave behind is what you intended to leave behind – all your troubles and worries.
Captivated by beauty, you follow the path, picking up speed with every inherited stride. Running at full speed, you reach a wide open world. You stop, catch your breath, and continue to run on your way without looking back, for your fear of return is quickly catching up to you with every swish of the wind.
You continue, pushing and pushing as the pathway narrows to an uphill climb. You feel that cold breeze panting on your neck, making its way down your anxiety-wrapped body. Time loses its meaning as the sky darkens to an iridescent glow. You feel the hope that your destination is near. Warmth draws you to the top of a hill, where you discover the gates that will lead you to your domain. Welcome, you are here.
But the gates cannot be opened, and the surrounding wall is too high to climb. It’s like someone does not want you to enter. Feeling a sense of vanquishment, you begin searching for another way in, but your efforts are destroyed by that steadfast wind. With gusts so powerful as a summer hurricane, it lifts you to the point of gravitational helplessness. You are thrown through the air like a cast-iron ball from a Civil War cannon. You feel yourself falling through a time warp, losing all sense of direction and balance.
Mountain tops and waterfalls flash before your eyes on your way down from your destination. Surpassing the speed of sound, you plummet helplessly to your now unwanted domain. As you near the foundation, a cold sweat accompanies the cold wind. Then, it finally strikes you. The wind was the answer all along. It was the admonition.
Moving faster and faster, you prepare yourself for the final stop. This is where you get off; the final stay – – the final destination. Welcome! You are here.
