Eight steps past the menacing faces, I walk through the grass, with my boots strapped on. I would have loved to walk on the moist soil – barefoot – but insect bites lead to sickness later. A leafless tree stands defiantly alone, as green branches bend down to woo it.
I am close to the tower now. There is nobody there to tell me how many stairs do I need to climb to the top, and if there are any secret doors or pathways.
Is the place haunted? Why is it so desolate? Why do I choose the most difficult paths, the roads less travelled? Is it a love of adventure, or an inner need to prove something to myself? Will I find Nirvana at the top, or will this be another failed pursuit?
know your drivers
for they define success
or a failure
will power is obsolete
once decisions are taken