The paths I have not taken are many fold. Today I wonder if I chose wisely. Have I diverged from my chosen course or am I merely in the valley, climbing to the highland where the view is imense. Two weeks and two days since the depths that entomed my heart were bashed into. I've had highs and lows since then, feeling cyclic within this skin. It's nice to be in this skin. The feel of the knife point is not some distant echo of emotion but a real and tangible structure that is unique to me. I hope I am on my long chosen road I like where I am going. The roadposts have become infrequent. The dejavu-ish sights and sounds and smells have fallen away. Am I still on my road. Have I strayed. Are the signs even needed. Have I simply moved beyond that. Have my signposts changed.

Long ago I wandered these roads. The paths cross in ways I couldn't forsee. Now I wander roads I am not lost on. There are friends along the way and I am strong. Tomorrow I will be stronger. One day there will be a friend to walk beside me. Yes, I chose a good path.

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