Just when the time slows and I can just feel my grip begin to tighten, the head speeds up and I’m lost again. Rushing into a whirling space of misunderstood phrases and assumed remembrances. I can’t believe I’m no further than I was before. (Even though I know I am.) I can’t believe this road is the same one. (Only different.) I recognize this place. This place where my feet walk the same ground. Where the vistas are unchanged in their endless changing. I’m afraid. Not afraid because the change will hurt. Will, by its nature, change. Not afraid of whom I could become. Afraid that even if I choose another path, it will be the same. And I’m too tired. Too tired to do much but walk at the moment. Put one foot in front of the other. Survive. And watch the same stones and crossroads and spaces roll by.