Lately I've been seeing the world in a weird narrative context. This past week we here in Wisconsin had a blizzard that rocked the foundation of what we thought was possible with the weather. Many joked, but you could see many were afraid. Cars were overturned and people were trapped. After all of this, we had to dig. Dig through mounds and mounds of snow to create remnants of the world we once knew. The funny thing, though, with snow is, no matter how much you clear away, we're trapped. It became that much more clear after all this blizzard.
I walked to the bus stop in the morning, following the sidewalks. These are paths made by man to guide us in a direction. This is true. But at one point we can choose to be masters of our own destinies and diverge from the path and cut through grass and streets. After this blizzard, you were lucky to find a small trace of a trail through the snow. Cavernous walls surround you and guide you forward. You could attempt to climb over, but very few, if any, seldom do. We're being led along these snow walls. Snow is like that, it's just taken me this long to notice. It's taken the extreme case of being trapped on both sides by snow to see it. Then, I'd come to a dead end and would have to make a decision. Try and climb over and see what the state is over yonder, or make a left or right. I felt like Sarah from Labyrinth. Even though I wasn't lost, I felt lost. Isn't it funny how sometimes the most complex things are the most simple? See what I mean? Narrative sense.
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