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Roads
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Roads Sin: I committed an unspeakable sin and was sentenced life. And it doesn't matter if they made do it or just wanted , I'm the one who did it. In the end, each of us are the ones who do it entirely, though we aren't entirely the ones who suffer from it. And, I didn't have . No one ever has . It doesn't feel that way sometimes but it's true. Life is as simple or as complicated as you make it someone told me once(or I just made it , or probably stole from one of these fine books).You are who you are and if you take the road meant for you, you'll some bumps or run out of gas from time time and start looking at this other road or that other road, but if you stay the course, you live the best life you can possibly live; not a perfect life, it's not like that, life is never like that. But the best life you can possibly live. You can always tell who’s the right road, it's in their eyes, it's in their voices; even if they're having a bad day, a bad week, a bad month you can see it on them. And no matter how low life gets, they're ok, they'll make it. I've only taken roads meant for someone else; worse, I'm about do it again. And it's a sin, the only real sin, because there's no hope this way. Even if it's a good road, newly paved and well lit, and you're having success and your cruising along down that road with your family and friends and everyone's singing and smiling and going on vacation and driving fancy cars and living in big houses, it's not your road and failure and sadness and emptiness and are surely waiting for you just ahead around the bend. And when it happens and you dust yourself off and don't really care that much because it’s not your road anyway, the<b> smoke </font></b>clears and you can see the smoldering bodies in the twisted heap: the people who trusted you, who believed in you, who counted on you, who sacrificed for you, who married you, who were born of you and now are broken forever because of you; and you know, with a certainty that you've never known before, that this is the lowest place in this world or any other. live a life trying be something you're not so others accept you is a dead man’s -do-list. How this simple truth has been able hide from in the plain light of day for so long in and of itself explains the who, what, when, where and how that has brought here today. It's easy to see that now, sitting here, alone, when it's dark and quiet and the world's half asleep, as I ready myself to start again down another road that isn't mine. |
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