Crossroads after crossroads bring us here. Where every choice we make leads us eventually to our deaths. The trees around the paths blow in the wind, fruit and ropes hanging off of them occasionally.
The red flowers dot the mundane green of the grass in geometric patterns that spell it out for some people, them calling it fate. Though the pristine brick specifically lays out similar paths for everyone.
"You'll be a doctor, you a chef, you a mournful news report." Yet only half the people remain on the path. The other half drift away and frolic like is frowned upon. Years off, travelling, drugs, abuse, death... Only time will tell as the path remains unfaded by the lack of followers across its surface.
Most come back to the path. After only a few short years they find themselves continuing and moving on. Others choose to make their own, pulling up weeds and grass to resemble the earthy tones in the original trail that winds through the hills and valleys. In denial over fate chosen at birth. No matter where you go, our individual paths all end in similar ways. After allowing us to "choose" for the longest time, the choice is taken from us as our lives move over to make room for the next group. Paths erased, lives end. As if nothing we did mattered in the first place. Pathetic, isn't it?
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Fractured Thoughts
Cerita Pendek(VERY PROMINENT TRIGGER WARNING. TOPICS DISCUSSED IN HERE COULD POSSIBLY BE VERY TOXIC. READ AT YOUR OWN WILL.) From the mass of my brain, things tend to come up from moments of darkness. This brings out the inspiration for writing and therefore, th...
