"a line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it's curved like a road through mountains." tennessee williams
there was a time, longer than i should've given it, that i thought a straight line would be the easiest route to get me where i wanted to go. where that was exactly, that wasn't as clear - but, as long as i toed some invisible line, i'd get there in time.
i'd do what i was told.
i'd abide by the rules, i'd follow instructions, i would obey, listen and follow along as best as i could.
i followed those straight lines - heel toe, i arrived on time and never empty-handed.
now, when i turn back around, and look straight from where i began, i know better. a crooked line, a curved path; to follow a hurricane of a heart - can leave you punch-drunk, on the floor with vertigo, the ceiling spinning like gin-soaked saturday nights. but more, the bruises and scrapes you'll find in the morning, they'll serve as glorious reminders of where those crooked lines led you. unexpected, unknown, catch-your-breath places - as opposed to those clearer paths, and the unscathed legs of a straight line life.