“I meant to go grocery shopping today.”
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. If this was indeed true, she knew precisely where she was headed in this current trajectory.
She idly wondered whether one could find their way to heaven through bad intent.
It was curious to her that she could lay in the shivering cold, where hardly months before she had been dying to strip off every layer to rescue herself from the sweltering heat. The windows were fogged, and the sound of tires turning through shallow puddles on the ground crept in from the outside.
The world was quiet and dark. The fireplace no longer flickered, the flames had long died out and there were no longer dancing shadows on the walls.
It was always in these moments that life seemed an overwhelming, daunting task.
Life was an experiment that had gone on altogether too long, without reasonable cause or direction, and the documentation of it was being entirely neglected in any meaningful way. The data was useless.
Faces, places, and time.
Conversations brought back to life by driving down the same streets, passing the same houses, seeing the ghosts of people that once meant everything to your self-centered world. Dwelling in the past, ever seeking the present, and fearing the future.
Moments that only held meaning if you chose to let them.
A future that you fear. Not for the danger that lies in the future, but for your ability to adapt to situations far outside yourself. Does it matter, then? Anything at all could happen, and somehow you will come out alive and well on the other side. Or dead, but in that case you wouldn’t be around to notice.
Do we seek the plot that finally makes us break? Do we long to know just what it is that we cannot adapt to? Or, perhaps these are only what a lunatic wonders.
If anything can happen and you can adapt for the better, then what importance can anything truly hold in the current moment? Fleeting emotions, obsessive attachments, transforming discoveries – all of these things could be taken away, twisted, manipulated or disfigured to a point of unrecognition at any moment.
Yet, you will live on.
You will grow, and discover the infinite possibilities inside yourself regardless.
How many times can you begin something with the best of intentions, only for it to get drowned out in the noise before you realize that all it ever could be was simply the intention itself?
How many times can you watch your good intentions can be churned into the concrete that paves your life’s path, before you wonder whether intentions of any kind are worth having at all?
Meaning is perspective. Everything is temporary.