This was on the ground as I took my usual route to class. Here, we see an old arrow sign, and my old crappy shoes. (Don't worry. I have better shoes now.) I couldn't help it. I took a picture of it. One of my friends was with me and we started to joke. "Oh my gosh! It's pointing the way to Narnia!" "If we follow it, some crazy person will jump out and attack us! This is how they lure their victims!" We stood in the brisk autumn wind and talked for quite a while.
    Then I did something dangerous. I started thinking. =) Where did this little sign come from? What was it pointing to? How did it get here? Why was it broken? Then, my subconscious brushed away all these questions with three words.
    It's a metaphor.
    I'm not quite sure why I have sudden spasms of philosophical thought patterns. I wish it happened to me when I was doing something more important than staring at a broken sign on the ground. I began to have a conversation with my philosophical self.
    "A metaphor?! For what?"
    "Don't you see? It doesn't matter where it's pointing, just the fact that it is."
    "The sign is. That's deep, man."
    "No, look. It's a metaphor for life! The way through this life is direct. Straight. Narrow. But it's not easy. See how the sign is tattered and dirty? But that doesn't change the straightness of the arrow."
    "You're right! Gee, what would happen if I moved the sign? Could I alter the way I live my life and still have that direct route? I really want to change my minor. Would that change the way my sign is pointing? Would it change the direction my life would take? "
    "It's just a sign, you simpleton."