The Journey to Wits End

It was a journey I didn’t really want to travel. Mostly travelled as slowly as I could. Tried to breathe in the fresh air, admire the blue skies. I met many people along the way and had many good times.

On this journey, I tried to extend the duration of my travel by trying to deny the reasons behind why I was unwillingly making this journey to begin with.

Crime, immorality, selfishness, death surrounded me. “Ignore it” people said. I tried, but it didn’t seem right. Anxiety, depression, neglect amidst many a personal battles – I countered with denial. The stifling feeling of constantly being alone, misunderstood or taken advantage of lurked in the mind, propelling me forward… yet everything appeared to be at a standstill as I met everything and everyone with a casual demeanor and a bright smile.

Try as I did to stay put… inch by inch, my journey still continued.

On this journey I had a huge water jug. It was always perfectly maintained, filled to the brim but without a drop falling out. I had stopped my journey for a second, stepping to the side of the road to empty some of that water. As I did, I contemplated turning around and heading back to where I had just come from. A small place called Sanity. I closed my eyes to feel the warm sun on my skin, the breeze nudging my hair. It felt like a perfect day.

And just as I was starting to enjoy the sun, a rumbling black cloud rumbled across the sky bringing in a violent storm that was out of my control, the whole world’s control. The storm overfilled the jug and it’s blow knocked it over.

….And that is how I reached Wits End.