Not for Creative Writing...

(The following is in the order of my thought process, and is an allusion to another journal, the original)
But for the greatest purpose to write, for self.
Now don't be confused.
This is not an act of selfishness, just an act of self-pity.
See, I find myself tonight at another crossroads, but not Beelze's crossroads, it's another one of mind.
I look in every direction.
Ahead of me is a path that is enjoyable yet extremely risky.
Behind me, I see treasure beyond belief, but I blew up the bridge to it.
To my left is the saddest, most destructive thing I've ever seen, that always tempts me, but I constantly refuse, or try to refuse rather.
And to my right there is the path of righteousness.
So I take the most unknown of the four.

I wonder where it will lead me.
Will it show me new views on old sights?
Will it answer my sleepless questions?
Will it lead me to happiness?
But most importantly, will I learn my lesson, or anything at that?

I hope, in succeeding in this epihony, that this helps me.
That it helps my kids.
That it helps my wife.

And yet, and yet I am simply a hope...