14th of Gremlin's Grin

You ever feel like you're just too good at overthinking things? Like you get so stuck on the smallest details that you miss the big picture?

Yeah. That's basically been my life since I woke up and found myself trapped in this labyrinth. Not that I had a choice in the matter, but I'm starting to believe that my mind might be the most dangerous weapon here.

And by "dangerous," I mean self-destructive.

After my little "run-in" with the clowns (who I am still not convinced were clowns and not just disguised nightmares), I found myself wandering into the next room. It looked like an ordinary hallway.

No moving walls. No traps. No clowns with pies. Just a long corridor that seemed to stretch on for eternity.

Naturally, I thought it was a trap.

Because that's the kind of thing this place does. Everything is a trap.

I paused, taking stock of my surroundings. The walls were lined with old portraits of people I didn't recognize. Some had fancy hats, others looked like they had just eaten a bowl of mystery stew and regretted it immediately.

I walked past them. I could feel their eyes on me - like they were judging me for being so bad at this whole "adventuring" thing.

And then, like any good hero (or whatever I am now), I kept walking.

I ended up at the end of the corridor, where a massive door stood. The door was covered in symbols I didn't recognize. There was a puzzle lock on it that looked like something out of a bad escape room.

So, I did what any sensible adventurer would do: I sat down and stared at it.

I overthought it for a good hour. Maybe more.

You ever try to solve a puzzle that makes absolutely no sense but your brain keeps linking random things together? Yeah, that's what happened here. The symbols on the door kept changing every time I thought I had figured them out.

Was it a language? A riddle? A riddle in a language? A language of riddles?

I wasn't sure, but I was sure I could get it.

I could get this. I just needed to think a bit more. Right?

Then, something whispered from behind me.

"Are you just going to sit there all day?"

I froze.

"Who said that?" I hissed.

"Honestly, you're really bad at puzzles. It's embarrassing," the voice quipped.

I turned to face it, but of course, there was nothing there.

I grumbled under my breath. "Who's messing with me now?"

"Probably you," the voice replied, as if it was sarcastically nodding. "You're not even trying. Why don't you just open the door?"

"Open the - " I stopped mid-sentence.

"Yeah, that's right. Open the door."

I blinked.

It suddenly occurred to me that I was overthinking again. I'd been so caught up in the "perfect solution" that I forgot the simplest answer could be the right one.

So I tried the handle.

It opened.

Of course it opened.

The door swung open with a satisfying creak, revealing an even darker corridor behind it.

But then the voice came back. "You're still not getting it, are you? This isn't about solving the puzzle. It's about not solving it. You've been stuck on it for so long that you've lost the point of even being here."

What the heck does that mean?

As I stepped into the new hall, the walls seemed to whisper around me, and for a moment, I almost thought I could hear the portraits laughing. Maybe they were laughing at me for overthinking everything.

And then, I saw it.

A sign, hanging right in the middle of the corridor. It was made out of what looked like mossy wood and had the words:

"THE HALL OF PROCRASTINATION AND OVERTHINKING."

Well, that was just rude.

Clearly, this place was set up to make me question everything. Was I supposed to be the hero of this ridiculous adventure? Was this just a weird dream I couldn't wake up from?

I was starting to wonder if I was just one bad decision away from giving up completely.

Then, I felt something wet hit the back of my neck.

I spun around, thinking it was a trap, but instead, I saw an elderly woman standing in front of me. She was holding a cup of tea.

"Procrastinating again, are we?" she asked.

I opened my mouth, but then I realized something.

I had no idea who she was.

"Who are you?" I demanded, stepping back.

"Oh, I'm just the guardian of this hallway. You've been here a while," she said, taking a sip of her tea. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to do anything other than stare at the door."

"But the puzzle - "

"Don't worry about the puzzle. That's the trick. There's always something to distract you. But it's up to you whether or not you want to waste your time."

I stood there, speechless.

"You don't need to keep trying to solve everything. Sometimes, just move forward."

And with that, she disappeared.

I stood there for a moment, letting that sink in.

Move forward.

Maybe it wasn't about solving every little thing. Maybe it was just about pushing ahead, even if I had no idea what was coming next.

I'm not sure where this labyrinth is taking me, but at this point, I'm more interested in getting out than trying to be some hero with all the answers.

If this place is going to keep throwing challenges at me, maybe I'll start just walking past them instead of thinking I can outwit them.

If I'm not careful, I might end up overthinking my way into a whole new problem? again.

At least now I know what happens when you get stuck in your own head.

It's tea with weird old ladies and confusing hallways. Definitely not the kind of adventure I was promised.