There comes a time when everything seems narrow. Our choices become actions like the back of our hands. My jaws almost clench at the thought of my life without flavor. How so much can exist within my skin. How small sentences can form large armies. How intricately we exist together in dimensions of things we try so very hard to understand. It took me far too long to realize that there are no wrong choices. Every choice you make is the right choice. When standing at a crossroad figuring your small life is facing decisions too large..fuck it. Alright, don't fuck it. What I'm trying to say, without intentionally digging a grave, is that you can only continue on. I cannot regret the ghosts in my past nor the depression I suffer from and yet everything seems possible. Each of these lives we live is the right one. Every path is the right path. Everything could have been anything else and it would have just as much meaning.