I wonder about the decisions that I make, everyday. And the decisions that I make once in a life time. I wonder if it isn't all pointless...these decisions. Does it matter if I choose on was or another? It all feels the same. Is there really some cosmic road that is perfect...or is it all just a shot in the dark
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I never think decisions matter as much as our culture (and possibly lots of other cultures, not to mention our sub-culture) make them out to. I think that despairing insensly over an already-made decision will in the end do far more harm than making a decision you realize might even have been better if you'd gone the other way.
Even a 'bad' decision means wisdom and experience for the adventuous traveler, but for the the metaphorical 'homebody,' even the best of decisions lead nowhere at all.
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