And you are doubting yourself, and you refuse to believe, and you say there’s no freaking hope.

And you see the people around you, striving and moving on, albeit struggling. You see they have light shining on their path. But you look ahead and reach out your hand, only to grasp the darkness and lose your arm in it.

You have no choice but to borrow the other lights. With no idea where they might lead and how far they are, yet you think it’s the best choice. For no light lit your path.

Then you realise, to cross to their paths is not as easy as you think. The mud eat at your sole and pull you down. The logs too heavy for you to move them away, and too big to climb over.

You think you are stuck. And you are really stuck.