Before me a path diverges in countless directions.
Some of them stretch out as vast and desolate as desert trails buried in sand.
In the distance I see steep mountain paths and raging torrents rushing by.
I stand frozen, unable to choose.
Paths covered in trees, hidden by thick fog, stretching far into far distance
—their destinations unseen.
And a huge, silent darkness chases me.
It stands right behind me like a high, invisible wall, and I can’t even back away.
It sometimes emits incomprehensible murmurs, mocking me, as if the path had never existed.
It’s like a giant, silent, ominously rising cyclone,
swirling up the past and shattering the path I’ve taken on the ground
as if to say it’s all over now,
and all I can vaguely see are the cruelly destroyed remains of my supposedly correct decisions.
The constant laughter coming from behind makes me wonder, what did I do wrong?
Has my life been a big mistake?
Sure, there were happy times, but what I can mostly remember is the painful and sad ones.
Perhaps it’s true that my life has been a failure.
Where did I go wrong? Why did I always make the wrong choices?
Would my life have been better if I had made better choices?
Unfulfilled happiness in my family, a lonely childhood, jealousy towards my friends, frustrated dreams, an ordinary life, myself forgotten by everyone.
I bitterly recall my various misfortunes and small dreams I never achieved.
My past is certainly covered with shame and worthlessness.
But what was my dream anyway? Who was I?
What was I supposed to do?
Was there any mission I had to carry out?
Without it, I would have no chance of failure or success.
It happened I came into being in fortuitous circumstances , grew up and knew myself.
We are blessed if we could grow out of own dungeon and gain a new insight into the world.
But that doesn’t mean the world has changed, but only I have.
Then we can see the world as we want: the world is stagnant, divided and dreamless in the wilderness,
Or the world spreads out like a dreamy grassland filled with light, hope, confidence.
Even if the dream is fragile and fleeting, we may find a new path, which will become a new standard standing high like a temple in the sky, and we will climb the stairs, praying for reaching the top.
But the temple is far away, towering above the clouds.
The sun rarely shines.
It’s so obscured by fog that we can’t even tell where we’re walking.
But still, we keep climbing the stairs.
They are narrow and unstable and seem endless.
Where on earth am I?
Occasionally the sun shines and I think I can see the temple.
But soon the sun is covered with clouds and the temple looses its form into the white mist.
Suddenly, a shadow approaches to me,
and my heart leaps wildly with surprise and expectation.
Have we finally reached the temple?
The shadow, however, takes the form of a tiny person,
and speaks to me in a gentle voice.
It is the other I had forgotten, possessed by myself.
It is my companion, lighting the way like a torch even in the vast fog.
But this person is not mine either;
She is heading for another temple, her own.
The shadow is always around me, before and after me.
I feel a sense of relief and the two of us climb, close together.
But I loose that shadow soon, and another shadow might approach.
And then you may lose sight of the shadow again.
After all, we are all alone.
However, those who have found the shadow even once are fortunate.
That memory will be their crutch for the steep stairs. That smile will give you the courage to climb.
Is the temple of mine higher or lower than other people’s?
Nobody knows if the decision to go to the temple is right.
We have to climb the stairs until we get exhausted and crouch on the steps.
Looking down, I see myself climbing far below the clouds. It’s me as a young man, sometimes carrying nothing, sometimes carrying a heavy load.
Still I carry something, it’s myself.
And all I can see is a distant vista.
Still my way diverges in several directions.
I cannot still decide, which way I should go.