My path has no beginning, and it has no end.
It is governed by nothing, and shaped by everything.
I do not control it, yet I am comforted by it.
My path is not your path, and your path is not mine.
Our paths may cross, if only for a moment.
At these crossroads is where understanding lives.
My path cannot be defined, analyzed, graphed or measured.
Any attempt to do so is a complete waste of time.
It is what it will be and not what it was.
My path is ever hungry, with a thirst that cannot be quenched.
But it gives more that it takes.
My path provides no favors, not even to me.
My path is mine, and mine alone.