One or the other.
I choose a path. But, on the other hand:
Maybe I’m really a set painter… Finishing beautiful sets.
Nope. I’m too lazy.
Yours?
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth…
Food for thought, Beck.
"When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars."
I chose to go outside.
Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart, the other doesn’t.