in terms of narrative structure, labyrinths twist and turn without leading anywhere, without resolution. they have their symbolic monstrous macho hidden in some corner, all desirous.
according to the catholic fanatics who burned patterns into my high school's lawn, labyrinths offer the possibility of throwing off one's burdens and beginning again. one follows ritual zigzags in a stationary journey until reaching the center, where one's longing is offered up to god. the journey to the outside is lighter then.
this possibility depends on faith. to put one's foot in the path of scorched grass borders is to declare a belief. what is it? how to say it?
