As of now, there are too many things clamouring for my undivided attention, and I'm forced to put an end to my little masochistic pleasures. Should I be glad? I don't know.
You can keep running away for as long as you can, as if there is no end in sight. I know just how well I excel in that! A true procrastinator's mantra.
But it never quite works.
"You may leave, if you wish," said the Fool grandly. "Unfortunately, I still live here."
The crowning conclusion, I suppose. Well, there's always the option of adopting the lifestyle of a nomad. Or remaining. Or deserting.
Choices, choices, choices. They sink their fangs into my shoulders - with such delicious weight. But this, I embrace, for all the right reasons and more.