"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story... I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this gig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and everyone one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black..."
— Dec 13, 2017 02:50PM
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