You thought you had arrived.
Not at the final destination, just at a milestone where you can rest and from where you can see the next place to stop.
But you realize you were wrong.
What looked like a milestone from a distance, was actually a crappy plastic bag strung on the spikes of a bush by the wind.
You are disappointed, sad.
You realize that you don’t even know if you’re going in the right direction or not. It occurs to you that perhaps it is not worth going any further, who knows what kind of disappointment awaits you at the end of the road?
You have the feeling that you are going round and round… as if the landscape is constantly repeating itself, only from a slightly different point of view.
When you walk past the dense thicket, you also have the feeling that sooner or later you will have to go in there and make your way right through it. You know you’re going to get hurt in there, the brush will scratch you back and forth, but that’s not what you’re afraid of.
You fear what you don’t know.
You don’t know what’s lurking in there, deep in the thicket, where even the sun’s rays barely reach.
You have a sense that your path leads through the thicket, but you just keep going, round and round.
You go around like this as long as your strength lasts.
When your strength eventually runs out, you get into the bush, because you have nothing left to lose.
But you don’t have your strength anymore either.