A momentary lapse is enough, sometimes, to question everything.
Even as we stake out our territory, even when it feels as if there can be no turning back, the false ground upon which we worship suddenly gives way. We find ourselves slipping beneath the very debris we once thought would save us. Failure seems not only an option, but a final destination.
Routine becomes chaos, chaos becomes routine. And death portrays itself a friend.
But it is in those momentary lapses that we can take back the rhythm of our youth and sieze the promises left behind.
And start again.
A momentary lapse is enough, sometimes, to finally understand.
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