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Before you lies a path.
This path is clear.
It does not hold any obstructions or obstacles. It does not curve nor does it bend.
It is simply a path, and it is present for you to follow it.
You take your first step forward.
Then your next step. And the next.
You hear nothing. Your feet make no sound. You feel nothing. Your focus is drawn back to the path - although it is nothing spectacular, it reigns in your attention, it commands for you to stay fastened to it. You are unable to look down and wonder of the sensation - or lack thereof - that has encased your full attention for your feet due to the path's will.
Before you, in the colorless space, the path carries you further along its way. You dare not think of looking behind, for there was nothing there when you stepped into and past it all, and so there shall be nothing there when you turn around.
Your breathing is steady. Your eyes are comforted by the luminescence that this path radiates. The invisible spectra of light that emanates from the path, beneath your feet, assures you that it is there - but there is no ground.
There is nothing to verify that the path is there to begin with.
Your breathing slows.
There is nothing to show you that this path, this path you've been following for some odd number of steps, is truly the right path to follow.
A shimmering appears to your right.
It is another pathway.
Shall you take this one? Shall you remain on the one you were set upon?
You look down the length of both.
The original path, with its single direction and invisibility, urges you to disregard the apparent pathway. The new pathway, just as clear of obstructions and retaining the likewise, uni-directional aspects, invites you. As par wonder and adventure seeps into your ambiguous form, filling your shoulders and neck with a tension of glee so that your neck possessed enough strength to fight the tie.
The paths were now in your focus.
You feel comfortable on this path - this present one you've been following for an indeterminable amount of time. You've walked until you've discovered this path, until you've questioned this same path you've been on, until it's shown itself to you.
Until you began to question the very path you started on.
With a sudden inclination to venture about and explore more, you will your body to do what you want it to - to bend against its natural and accustomed orientation and for it to wrench its limbs.
A leg; a neck wrung; shoulders squaring off simultaneously with hips, and another leg to finish the turn. You feel the next step.
You feel the next step.
It is nothing shocking, nothing alarming, but you feel it.
It fills you with a sense you've never once experienced before.
You wonder what the last pathway felt like. Turning to look at it, you see that it is no longer there. That glow, that radiant comfort that kept you safe and on its broad and unyielding plane, no longer there.
You are tempted to put a foot forth to verify this collection; however, you decide against it and turn back around. A bit disappointed, you decide to carry on this path. Each step is weighed down by the wonder of what the old path felt like, of where it could have carried you, of where this one is presently carrying you to.
You do not ask yourself the same questions at first, though you do gather that, should you ask the right questions, perhaps a pathway will reappear. Perhaps it'd go along the same way that the one prior had been set to.
It is worth more than a try, but that is all you have to offer.
You look down at your feet to inspect their throbbing and alert state, only to be blinded by the shimmering light that this path constantly provides. It is showing you all of the things around, and the unknown frightens you. The light casts shadows, far and near, so you decide that with the rest of your thoughts safe inside your mind it would be best to either turn around or keep forward.
As you trudge on, you feel a bit disoriented. Looking back along the length of the pathway with squinted eyes, a bit sore from the lights, you see that, either the lights are distorted or that the pathway bends in your wake.
Or, perhaps it is leading you along a bend.
A deception of massive infliction.
You have no clue which way it had brought you from.
Looking up for some kind of intuitive direction or foreign assistance, you carry on. Step after step, step after step after step, and after steps after those steps, you continue. Your journey is not satiated in the least by the curiosity of your wonder, of your drive of your ambition to claim more of a pathway you have never set foot upon, only to find that, with its visible plane, it feels narrower than the first you were on.
Thinking back to your first few steps, you barely recall how long it took for you to find this second path.
Begrudgingly, you resent yourself for doubting the path, and desire for its lack of sensation and dimmer presence and greater comfort and larger inclusion to return to you. Or, rather, for you to return to it.
There is a such thing as finding your way back.
But you've not a single clue where to start.
<3 ~ Monty.
=]
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