corridors we walk are full of passages we choose to turn. we have opened countless doors on our way to this moment. each moment is another knob we choose; brass, tarnished, ornate or a handle. some of those doors are locked, and take us forcing them to open. we throw our weight against the grained wood in hopes that we are doing what’s best. our feet slide as we strain against the tides of choice. we may break some down or force our way through. or we may decide that passage wasn’t for us, and move on to an unlocked door, an easier path.

was it right to stop struggling? or right to find the easy way?


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