The above quixotic question comes from SK Dance, living in the swamplands of Louisiana.
What is an “agent” of change? Who is the “travel agent” of our life? What did we do before google maps?
SK, you also ask, “is it permissable, however mildly, and with whatever ambivalence, to rage at the miles and years it takes to reach a destination?” This tells me that much later in your life than you wished, you finally find what you were looking for. Yes, it is always permissable to rage. It is complaining and whining which annoys Zamboni. Rage is good. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light and so forth.
Zamboni understand, I do. Being an ageless timeless spirit, but more accurately speaking 124 and a half years old, I know something about endurance. Zambones still not find soul mate despite very pricey services of one-eyed Estonian witch/matchmaker who promise results over fourteen years ago. I am feared to curtail her services because her one eye can be evil, but I am hopeful.

Look at it this way; the longer your search, the more stairs you climb up and down, the sweeter it is when you find it. You may rage against my use of cliche, but is true. It’s not Zamboni’s fault that sometimes it takes 1000 miles to find your shadow or your soul mate- god makes many sick jokes like this. Think of the platypus and the fart. Also, pity the poor people who even after 1000 miles don’t see the sign that says, “Welcome- You Are Here”.
1000- huh! Sometimes it takes 3000 miles and you still F*@K it up! How’s that for rage?
Yep.
True, very true. If only I had more patience to acknowledge more often that I’m on a journey.
Thank You.