I hate admitting defeat almost as much as I hate admitting I need help. But, a lost traveler must admit he's lost his way and be able to stop and ask for directions. So...I will admit defeat and ask for help finding the North Star; I seem to have lost my way.
It's one of those times in my life where I feel I'm being pulled into way too many different directions that I've forgotten what road I started traveling on. It's like the puppet on the string scenario--the puppet doesn't realize he had strings until he's finally freed from his chains. Too bad I haven't been freed just yet...
I don't know where my life is headed, I don't know where the North Star is...and I'm just beginning to see that I may need a little more help finding my way back home then I thought.
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