You
are no more than a particle of dust floating aimlessly through the air. Is that
a comfort? Does it help to know that you can go unnoticed, that your wandering
is known to you alone? But so is theirs. None know the drifting of others. They
too are floating through the skies. Some, filled with a vague hope,
believe they are on a path. They ‘plan’ their course, seeing their route mapped
out for them. Sometimes by them. They
too are undetectable specks. What makes you any different? It is a knowing. You
recognize your powerlessness. That is the whole of it. It is your quiet
acquiescence. For if you have no destination, you can never be lost.
