One way or another we find our way. At first we think there’s one way, the way we observe around us. Gradually we see there isn’t only one path, but it quickly become so divergent it intimidates. We find comfort in the on way we knew before because it was known, it was familiar. But like the sprawling branches of the tree beginning from one solid base stretching to the sky, we learn that its necessary to travel those other paths to find the flowers at the end. And then from that one path we can find another or jump to the next. In the end, it ends up being one path, but not the path we once considered, but more importantly, it is our path, the one that was main for us.
Inktober 3019 No.18—“misfit”
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