those self-destructive avenues we wander down, ignoring the signs telling us to turn back or to keep out. we don't like to ask for directions. we ignore signs. we don't bring a map. and even when we can feel ourselves getting more and more lost with each turn, we don't stop. what do you do about it? what can you even say in your own defense, for arriving at a fork in the road and choosing the path that you know ends in a murky swamp or a sweeping cliff, or dark and endless woods? self-destruction is the ultimate in harm- you do it to yourself, and like quicksand you can't get out.
and you chose it. you made it that way.