a man at twenty five is stuck in a hapless purgatory - he sees the long winding road ahead, it is open and inviting but at the same time scary,

he knows the road wouldn't be any less rocky than the many smaller roads he'd travelled before - that it would be more difficult to come back onto the road now if he strays too far away from it,

gone is his rashed blessing of impulsiveness, replaced by a heart perverted by contemplations and practical thought,

but what he fears most is the realisation the road has no u-turns, and that having come thus far, and with the end no where in sight, how his journey would end  ¶ 8:48 pm