My point is/was that many people aren't particularly engaged in their own lives, their choices. The 'normal' path provides illusion of safety in the known, but we can each and all get gobsmacked at any moment. Further, those who (over)-analyze their choices and paths can still find themselves in muddleland.
I've had opportunity to consider (from the outside) the situations of several close friends. What they thought they were getting into, what they thought 'it' would signify and entail, where they thought they were going... And where we all end up: somewhere else on the road, or on another path altogether.
Cognizance isn't limited to mental acuity, I'd suggest. Knowing AND doing something about...that's the challenge and the rub. ('I know I have a drinking problem' is step one--and it buys lots and lots of temporizing time.)
Anniversary season: been a great twenty years for me. Fall of Berlin Wall, Nov. 89, I was on road w/ a couple buddies, living on tequila and warm Bud Lite. Bad things happening--though it was the terminal leg of my debaucherous self-negation. Somewhere in Colorado, we'd drunk ourselves stupid and ugly, again, and one guy had awoken to the relentless sun cranking through large windows and thin air. On t.v. he'd watched the footage of the rabble at the Wall. When the rest of us staggered from the dung heap of sodden sheets and sweatshirts, he told us there'd been a jet crash in the Pacific. The survivors had gone looney, become cannibals, and then were fighting off would-be rescuers using the femurs of their departed & eaten cohort.
That image is excellent and has remained entwined with the actual Berlin Wall footage: crazed, tattered crash survivors wielding meaty femurs like cudgels from atop a heap of jet wreckage and human remains. It took us most of the day to realize he was making it up.
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