What does it take to be able to cruise down a guilt-free highway and make decisions that hurt no one else except perhaps yourself?
It could be cowardice – in a world of biting financial insecurities, wobbly health concerns and an unsteady political climate, all too often we find ourselves fearing for the future, of what it may or may not even bring.
But it could be anything really, something maybe, and nothing we can control absolutely: we call it fate, destiny, luck; they refer to it as the perfect alignment of all stars known to mankind, or simply a nice complement to the scores of tea leaves falling into distinct patterns that spell either complete droll or dreadful disaster.
One forked path, two broken signposts, and a long and winding road that ends with a mistake in a city of misgivings.
And every time I think I have got the album of the year pat down, something else comes along and blows it out of the water.
Aptly, I thought I could be a total washout. It makes me feel like a human being again.