Fight or Flight

What if this is all some glorified metaphor for life?
When life hands you a cut, broken, and bloodied version of yourself,
What do you do?
Do you persevere?
Do you surrender to whatever god is in the heavens
And crumple to the ground, a heaping mess?
Do you regret any actions?
Do you not regret any actions?
Are your aspirations, deepest secrets, and insecurities relevant?
Is your impact on the world as great as you thought it would be?
Or is it now, more than ever, that you realize your significance?

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