I trace out the furniture and scenes around me. The dusty chest of drawers in Florence, my spectacles, thyroxine and water always on the nightstand, that diorama like hotel room full of promises and lies, the ghostly figure in my childhood bedroom, Kitty opening the
The right direction is the one where you believe in your self.
Not the self that someone else told you to believe in.
The one that you are uncovering daily.
No not the direction that the psychic or healer or friend or article told you to go in.