‘History repeats’ was their excuse to stumble in the same holes. They knew the cracks but kept walking. Lessons were written in fire… yet they chose to burn again and again.

They recited the phrase like a fatalistic mantra, absolving themselves of the need to look down. The cracks in the path were no secret; they were monuments to past failures, clearly visible to anyone who cared to see. But seeing required the courage to choose a different, untested route.
The lessons were not only written in fire, they were etched into the collective memory. However, there was a perverse comfort in the familiar flame, a distorted security in known catastrophes at the expense of unknown possibilities. Choosing a new path meant taking responsibility, so they chose the older, easier tragedy, willingly walking into the flames while calling it fate.