It was really it this time. It was the end of the road. Just like that it was all over, or so it seemed. I was all out of hope, out of options and unknown to the world. Within three years I had managed to go deeper into debt and had nearly exhausted all sources of employment and depleted my bank account. My life was going nowhere fast. It seemed as if my dreams had all been snatched away from me and placed into the hands of some unworthy individual whom I could not see or prove existed. It truly looked like this was the end for me and nothing short of a miracle could have convinced me otherwise. I was standing at the crossroads of life and death, caught up in the lines of poverty and prosperity, trapped in a web of discontent, searching for a way out. It was a gloomy, dark and rainy night. The traffic was very still and all was quiet. Aimlessly wandering in off the street, I entered the local record store. Once inside I decided I'd kill some time so I fumbled around for a bit moving about awkwardly not really sure what I was looking for or what my next move would be. Finally realizing the impossibility of finding my future in a record store, I exited and found myself outside alone in the street. By this time it was very cold and the night had never seemed so dark. I cringed as the winter wind cut through my thin layered jacket chilling me to the bone. The only light on the street came from the record store that had begun to close up as soon as I'd walked out. A terrible sense of loneliness and despair began to come over me. I started to feel as if I had just been shut out from the world and I would forever be trapped in a world of hopelessness and silence, never again to see or feel the joy of laughter and a brighter day. There I was, a lost soul, standing on the corner of 6th and nowhere.
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