The way out is more often the way through. Any time I think I’m going through something usually means I’m getting out. Corridors and hallways and passages from here to there. The ways we connect are infinitely fascinating. Such connections are the stuff of life. From the most basic synapse-to-synapse bridge, we survive by going from one place to another. Traveling. Life is movement.
Sometimes it ends with another passageway.
Sometimes it ends with a barrier.
Sometimes it ends with fire…
and sometimes it doesn’t end at all.
