This is your one life.
No, seriously. Aren’t you, like, 30 by now?
Yet here you stand, at a crossroads again.
Don’t be afraid:
it’s a beautiful, alive, vibrating thing, this junction. At times like these you write poetry, say goodbyes, pack boxes, unpack boxes. At a crossroads, you choose.
This is your one life. It owes you nothing. You owe it everything.
Don’t fall asleep at the intersection.