I’ve spent this summer losing myself. Head held high, confidence in my stride, and with a backpack of good memories, I left college behind, believing that what I needed was a break from the routine to clear the mist of monotony in my head.
And now, four months on, a greater fog sits heavy in the recesses of my brain – one of confusion, misgivings and trepidation. My store of memories are beginning to spoil with the rot of overanalyzing what was.
I am now a parched, travel weary, once enthusiastic traveler, misguided by a self drawn map that assured me that enlightenment would be waiting at the end of my path.
If only I had borrowed one instead…
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