Stop and write about “Something told me to turn around but I continued forward” if you wish. Or you could [[a mind to meander|go back to where the river begins]]. ---- Something told me to turn around but I continued forward. Then I ran into a wall. It hurt my nose. Why do I keep doing this? I turned around after all, prepared to face whatever the source of the disembodied voice may be. “I’m sorry, I—” “Never mind. There’s no time for that now. Come with me!” My eyes were still [[struggling to adjust to the darkness]]. A dim figure was starting to form in my vision though, and I assumed, or trusted, or hoped that it was the source of the voice. “Wh— ” “This way!” the voice said, and now, faintly, I could see it gesturing. Well, what else was I gonna do? Stay in a dark tomb forever, banging into walls every time I decided to not follow directions? I moved toward the dark figure. It turned and led the way, exactly the opposite way from what I had known with such certainty, moments before, was “forward.” There was no talking for a while. Just walking. I could sense a slight upward grade — good, that was reassuring. Still not much in the way of light though. The clammy brick or stone walls had grown closer on either side. We walked single file, the dark figure leading, me following. Occasionally I thought I would ask a question or make an idle comment, but then the urge left as soon as it arrived. Might as well just walk, and, for now, trust. This was not the easiest thing in the world for me to do, of course, y’understand. That’s of course related to how I ended up underground in a hidden vault in the first place. Yeah, I know, boo hoo, everyone’s got a sob story, but seriously. I have real, valid reasons for my trust issues. Just let me explain, see, here’s how it — “Stop.” What? I didn’t even say anything, I was just narrating to myself in my mind! Oh. The unknown personage meant, literally, stop. We had come to a closed door. “Can’t we just, I don’t know, open it?” I asked, dumb as ever. “Not that simple.” Great. Another mystery. Just what I needed. My aching knees. Ugh. I had a feeling this was going to take a while. ---- I trust that I’ll talk and it will come out right. I trust that I’ll talk, and the soil beneath my feet won’t be covered in blood, perhaps just stained, and that I’ll contribute what I can to ensuring no more spills, and that I’ll spend most of my life teetering between wondering how any of us will ever fix things, and how any of us will ever have anything left to say once everything is fixed. It’s all meaningless ponderings. There’s something in me that is certain of something, and I trust that more than anything I have ever ... ---- **Something told me to turn around but I continued forward** It was “comfortability” talking, when leaving everything you’ve known for the last 18 years of your life behind to figure out yourself and your life, it’s one of the many things that push you to stay. Comfortability doesn’t want me to welcome change because I’ve gotten used to its never ending cycle. I want to change my situation but it’s always the thought of not being able to control what happens when you actually [[give yourself a personal challenge|take action to change your situation]].