Originally Posted by
rousseau
The wind is your enemy
Until you stop, give up, and turn around
And then it becomes your friend
This is a metaphor for life. Or marriage. Or getting lost during family vacations. Or something.
Sometimes, though, the wind is just a bastard, and follows you around, slapping you in the face and taunting you for not training enough during the winter, when the apple pie and other baked goods tasted so good.
It's never my friend. I keep thinking since I'm doing a loop, when I start to head back home the wind will be my friend. No, it's a bastard. Maybe it's a different and new bastard, but it's a bastard.