The Path

Green mist passes before my eyes tinting everything an emerald hue, clinging to the ends of my fur as I run through this gauntlet of streets. Blades of conformity lash at me trying to cut away my individuality, and weighted balls of suppression try to knock me in line. Deftly I dodge each thrust and blow heading forward without a destination, just trying to survive. Walls drop in changing my path, slowing my progress but not stalling it. A hunger starts to eat at me and I chew on my arm to quell it. I crawl through the mire of depression and time becomes nonexistent as I struggle to be free. Once I’m out I shake off my coat and start my trek anew. (When the physical doesn’t work) the ghosts of my past are released, they float towards me with severed limbs, severed hearts, and severed souls all trying to touch me, make me relive their pains that I created. Twisting and turning Matrix style I evade their seditious advances, spinning and contorting to fit through the narrowing chambers. On all fours I continue picking up speed as the slandering alley cuts off the wind, gaining just enough to spring over the spiked pit threatening to impale me. I hit the ground in a roll and slide to the wall breathing heavily, looking toward my future path. I see it doesn’t end, so this is how it’s to be, continuous traps and pitfalls. The trick is to enjoy surpassing them, take time to reflect, that’s the secret the world hides.