Driving

I like the idea of driving myself — it gives me a sense of direction and control. If I make a mistake, I simply look up at the highway signs to see how each road connects. I change course when needed, and in doing so, I learn something new — even from my missteps. Every wrong turn becomes a lesson, a chance to correct the path and keep going.

What weighs heavier is not the mistake itself, but the past — always hovering behind me, like a shadow waiting for me to fail. It clings to my back, feeding off weaknesses, never acknowledging its own faults. The past, in this case, belongs to someone who chose isolation, cutting ties with those she resents, practicing her own form of dark energy against the very people she distanced herself from.

But not me.

I’ve chosen a different road. I’ve freed myself from that past. I drive consciously, alone — not in loneliness, but in clarity. I don’t need anyone’s permission or help. I trust my inner compass, guided by a quiet force within, my inner deity. The real authority I answer to is the one inside me — the one committed to change, healing, and creating a new picture of life, one conscious turn at a time.