This Too Shall Pass

Beginnings are exciting. Unimaginably plentiful possibilities stretch out in seemingly infinite directions. Anything is possible, or so we believe.

Over time, some avenues become closed to us, while others loom larger. The possibilities are fewer. Still, there's always the next step, the next day, the next moment that could bring something completely new, unexpected, wonderful.

And then it's over, and all that remains before you is the barren wasteland: a shallow oasis here, the mirage of relief over there. Other than that, nothing but memories, what-might-have-beens, and pale glimmers of future beginnings.

What the hell am I talking about?