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| The sky is bright. A gentle breeze lightly whips across the yard, picking up stray leaves as it cascades throughout the yard and between the trees. A familiar tone is produced. It's the same one that plays at the end to an orchestra, as the flourishing instruments slowly fade into nothing. It is a day like any other, and as with the countless ones preceding it, something feels unfulfilled in your life. As if everything leading up to the present moment has been slightly skewed away from the optimal. The futility of trying to fight it is all-consuming, and ultimately leads you down a path further away from what you know could've been. The infinite branching pathways that spawn from the Tree of the Present are ever-changing and immense. Branches will intertwine and overlap to form a system of causality, while others bisect and become isolated and alone. The careful balance between the choices you make and the outcome of the rest of your life is nothing short of sublime. "Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced" - T.S. Eliot He did say that, right? You're pretty sure that is something that he said at one point. Pretty sure. You have a feeling it's going to be a long day. |