When You're Lost in the Woods

Here's a thought.  About writing. There are no rules, no style that needs to be maintained, no self-imposed disciplines of any kind, just conventions that form that aren't necessarily for the best.  Sometimes, for instance here, with this post, it could just be a wordscape, not meant to persuade, not meant to convince, not meant to enlighten. Maybe we could have just a bunch of words strung together to convey an emotion, a feeling, a moment. Sometimes just words poured out into the space of virtual reality, leading nowhere, a bridge to no conclusive epiphany or place. But maybe that's the point. There is no point if there's no dialogue, no point of view. Here the point of view could be seen as a head-mounted camcorder of a man lost deep in the woods, plunging ahead through the brush. I bet you there's one like that on YouTube with a million views. He won't admit to himself that he doesn't know where he's going, hoping to find his way out of the swamp, out of the woods when he's clearly lost.
Do you ever feel that way, just plunging ahead when you know you're lost, just believing that somehow you'll be okay, that some good will come, some intersection will appear that looks familiar. A recognition sparks, you turn right or left and everything is suddenly fine, and the panic recedes. You've proved once again that you can do this thing, whatever the thing is that you do.
I've been that way my entire life. I've been accused of being an eternal optimist. I don't play that fast and furious with life choices anymore, but with my writing I do. There's a valuable methodology in running blind for a time and see where you end up. I could say this is a metaphor for something bigger, maybe like our country under Trump, but I don't need to go there. Besides, it's not a good metaphor. With Trump we know what we need to do and we know exactly where it is he's leading us.