You have a sense that the world will deteriorate into chaos before you die, but you decided to bring a child into this world in spite of that sense. You think the sense might be misguided–a leftover artifact from days when entire civilizations were wiped out every few hundred years. You have a fear that the changes sweeping the globe may not be favorable to you and your children by the time the changes are settled. The winners may be other people.
Were you completely selfish in wanting to have this child–in that you saw him as a redemption for the man you never became? Or, were you completely altruistic, in that you were doing your part to keep the family bloodline alive? Or were you really being guided by forces outside of your control?
You want to have control over great things, but you have done a poor job of managing a few little things. Do you really think that someone out there is going to hire you to run a company when you can barely run your own life?
You want your narrative to be one free of drama, but you get bored easily when you take away all of the things that make you feel alive. You have a sense of when your thoughts get too twisted in your brain to make much sense to anyone, and then you know you’ve drifted off the path. You also know when you are off the path on a cold, desert freeway and there is nothing at all to see for miles but the straight line of the road in front of you. This isn’t the path, either.
But, you don’t want the path to take any longer than it has to.