There are times in your life when you ride that line between courage and fear. Is starting over brave, or just another form of cowardice? Will it work out? What will you do if it doesn’t? What will you do if it does? If it doesn’t, do you give up finally and settle for the next thing that you find mildly tolerable? Do you keep on, even if it means being broken down and absorbed back into the source of things? I don’t know. I can’t know. If I did, I think my life might have turned out different. A lot of times, I really wish it did. But wishing is about as productive as an excuse. You live in this world. You act in this world. And until you can reconcile that, you’ll never end up anywhere. You have to be ready to pack up that fucking car and just sail on a thin hope. You have to be ready and willing to chance being destroyed by life. Because, what’s the alternative? Nothing. The abyss. Maybe it takes equal parts stupidity, cowardice and courage to take that step. 

At least that’s what I tell myself.