How would it be like to walk through life in a tunnel? To believe that this was the only way to go? That you may have a single flashlight, charged by a battery. When the battery dies, you keep trudging on, because that happens. Batteries die and you’re so accustomed to groping your way until someone hands you a battery. Sometimes you start crawling on the ground on all fours. You groan and wince as you scratch your bare knees on the wet cavern floor. And you keep going and going, because it’s all you have known.
But what if the tunnel wasn’t the only way to get through? What if there were stairs outside that led up. Oh yes, it’s a hike, but there’s a wonderful slide on the other side. The journey isn’t as dark as the tunnel and there are happy people there.
What if in this tunnel, you’re surrounded by unhappy people. You meet happy people on the other side, but you never ask how they got there. They seemed unharmed, perhaps even lucky. You’re jealous, but you know that you are not worthy. Or so you think.
You think you’re unlucky. That you’re too slow. That you can’t be them. But it’s only because you believe that the tunnel is your destiny. Because it’s all that you know.