I grow old. And tired. Things change, this is certain. But I’d always hoped
they’d change because of me, not in spite of me. I look at where I was, where I
am, and where I hoped I’d be and realize that none of them are anything what I’d
dreamed. Maybe this is for the best. Perhaps disappointment is the best
inspiration. But right now it feels crushing. Waves of regret are all I can
feel. Regret and disappointment, not only in me but in others. The people I was
surrounded by, they were supposed to be more than this. They were supposed to
make me compete. Instead they stand idle with me.
Certainly my station in life cannot be blamed on them. As much as I would not consider my success theirs either. And maybe this is the problem. And maybe this is the beauty of it. And maybe I see more than there is. Perhaps I think too much,
dream too often, and act to little. I don’t know, and may never know. I read
once somewhere that the greatest torture a man can endure is at the end of his
life seeing who he is standing next to everything he could have been had he made
all the right choices. Right now nothing could seem more true. I can feel that I
was meant to be more than I am, I can see that I am not fulfilling my potential.
What I cannot understand is how I’ve strayed so far. Everything seemed so
promising.
I speak in ifs and maybes, uncertainty plagues this very ejaculation. As if to emphasize my point I say maybe this is the meaning of life. To never know, to always question, to perpetually seek and wonder. But I doubt it. I don’t think greatness comes to those who question everything but to those who answer it. And I suppose I haven’t come to my answer. But if I had things would be much less… enjoyable. For now I will bow my head, say my prayers, and carry on hoping for change brought by my hands, not to them. Until then I will persist. I must persist.
Submitted by David
aplaceforthoughts.wordpress.com 