
Nothing is certain, this I know. For life is an endless path stretching into oblivion as time passes and meaning loses touch with reality and our fears, dreams become shadows of expectation or the ideal life.
I have lived; a short life but in it I have seen how futile existence can be. How life is merely the endless struggles of men pushing beyond their reach, aspiring beyond their sight, hoping beyond their circumstances. They were born into a world of endless pain and struggles and they have chosen to fight for meaning, to fight with hope. Regardless, life remains the fig tree of expectations, of dreams, of hope plaguing the path of meaning as men caught up in the dilemma choose to curse it, exploit it, accept it or simply just cut it down. But this is life not of our creation but one we are born into to live.
If I had the chance to take a glimpse into my future and behold the mysteries it holds, to make certain the uncertainties. Will I be left in misery or in anticipation of the future? Will the unseen reality warm my thoughts with expectation and my heart with anticipation? But regardless of the unseen tomorrow, the past treads the path of taunting men until all that is left are Regrets – Dreams fallen off the platter of expectation. And there lay, men fallen off that platter in misery with memories plagued by regrets; memories that taunt hope and leave them broken beyond the will of the Potter’s wheel.
Do I have regrets? This question haunts me as my lips struggle to unite with my heart. And my answer is yes! Yes I do and each day I am reminded of my failings as life is but a persistent reminder of how things could have been if I had walked the uncharted path. But then what am I to do with a life wrought with regrets; to climb the hills of desperation and jump into the abyss of emptiness or wander the valley of hope with defiance in search of meaning. If there be any certainty in that path what choice do I have? If life is but the impatient clock ticking away without pity what am I to do? For now I cuddle into my shell of religious belief or the insanity that plagues all men in search of hope, for I am lost without the shred of meaning to give peace to my cause. If hope then is the uncertain desperation all men cling to I am now a prisoner; a prisoner of will.
I guess I have always believed in trying. And so I chose defiance to the norms; to the standards that men submitted themselves religiously to. I chose to break the rules not because I was rebellious but simply because I saw beyond them. And in my curiosity pushed beyond the box of conformity and regardless of how foolish many considered my choices. I learnt my own way and from there came my story; a story I share each day with my pen to the paper and to you reading.
Regrets will haunt you forever but the only way to move forward is to accept the past, acknowledge the reality and push forward beyond the box of conformity and explore life. Will it be hard; no one says giving birth is easy but with it comes a joy you can’t measure and I would give anything to feel that joy. To hold my own in my hands, to see, to feel and in that moment I remember not my past failings but the present as an inevitable destination of every step taken towards it. And in that instance a calm arises that puts my fears, my doubts to rest as I simply trust everything would be fine. There may be no guarantees but that’s life, no guarantees, just men willing to take the risk, take a shot at life and believe, simply belief.
We are all on this road together – How long? – I don’t know but that’s the beauty of life, its uncertainty and that uncertainty keeps us curious, keeps us pushing and keeps us believing. And we forge ahead like naive children with hope and anticipation of the best, no certain whether we would achieve our dreams but it’s worth the shot. This is life and it is beautiful!
Every journey has an end that is where the journey finds its meaning; it’s not in the accomplishments or achievements but in the defining point where everything comes to a close, to the still sound, to the wind, to the emptiness of the soul. In that moment what thoughts would plague your soul; regrets or memories of the life of a broken man, mended.
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