I thought I was headed in the right direction, my dark passenger back behind the wheel.
But if I was so sure I knew where I was going... how did I get so lost?

"Vlad was right. There are no choices. Nothing but a straight line.
The illusion comes afterwards, when you ask 'Why me?' and 'What if?'
When you look back, see the branches, like a pruned bonsai tree, or a forked lightning.
If you had done something differently, it wouldn't be you. It would be someone else.
Looking back, asking a different set of questions."

"I don't mean to, but I can be critical. Sometimes I think I'm just not good for people.
That it's not good for them to be around me. I wear 'em down. They... they get unhappy."

Hit me like a slow bullet.

The time has come when all things shall pass, this good thing passed away.
Through the darkest hour, your grace did not shine on me.

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