Escapism is the easiest route out, an acknowledgement of the fact that I am too weak to face the guns. The realization that it isn’t the fair way out isn’t hard to come by either. In this everlasting tussle of desires and actions, lack of latter is a crime as well. The quest of shattering the glass house of comfort, to have a truer attempt at conquering the distant desires is marred by inabilities of standing by dreams. Such a guilt builds up until it is too heavy to be carried on converting glass into concrete and hopes into wishes.
I have to codify the secret of alleviation. Waiting for a storm to pass does not help when I know it might never end. The doldrums have winds but the winds aren’t strong enough for a sail. We could lock ourselves in and pretend we lost the keys, pretend we are helpless and broken, pretend destiny was such, all until we have lost our dreams. And then look back and concede defeat at the hands of inaction not inability.