A long time ago, a voice in my head spoke about passion, flame, fervor and vigor. It spoke of pretty dreams and huge goals. It told me what I want from life and what life meant to me. I was lazy, but the voice was loud. Before long, I was treading a path, similar to what the voice said, but always deviating, slightly at each step, but certainly. With each step, the voice adapted. It took in new circumstances, changed the details, but never the dreams.
The reality isn't as pretty as a voice in my head. It tried to steer me away. Faced with a head gust, I dug on, trying to find the path, trying to hear the voice in the howling wind. The once loud voice started growing faint. The wind howled louder, laughing at me. It turned to a storm and then a blizzard, but I dug on and on. In search of that path, the one the voice led me to. But with the voice growing fainter, the wind howling louder, the path seeming longer, I stopped to look.
The voice was still there, fainter than ever, but as determined as always. The path it leads was rougher than ever. I wanted to grab onto the faint voice and dig on, like I did before. But a second voice asked me if I really wanted to go that way. The path is rough, the voice faint. Why chase that? Why go there? What is wrong with here and now?
Standing at this fork, hearing a voice fade away, I wonder what I should do. The beckoning voice is what my heart wanted to follow, but the second one seems too easy and loud to ignore. I pluck my courage and lift my foot to follow the little voice still ringing in my head. But I can still feel it fade away and can't help wondering how long I will be able to put this up before giving in to the second loud voice...
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