Fresh Start

Every time you think you start fresh, you actually go back to point zero.
You start running the same path over, and over again.
You run like mad on this Platonian treadmill gazing in a hologram of life they want you to buy.

Only when there is no more stamina left to run, no room for air in lungs.
Only then you have a chance to see through.
Through yourself.
A chance to understand WHY you keep running.
And do the actual, proper job. To break the pattern.

Because in the land of happiness there are no paths.
No patterns.
Just... life.

Edinburgh, 2024