starry eyed stare

"I saw my life branching out before me like the greening tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig a wonderful life beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet, and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa, and South America, and another fig was Constantine and Socrates and Atilla and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldnt quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of the tree, starving to death, just because I couldnt make up my mind which of these figs to choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant loosing all the rest, and as I sat there unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."