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Not only is this my first blog but this is also the first item, or piece, I have ever published on the internet. It may, or may not, be my last. I do not know. I have serious communication issues and it is my biggest downfall in the real world. I love to write, and so, in the middle of the night where I couldn't sleep I began writing and this is what happened. I wrote everything as it came to my mind; everything is simply the original format and has not been edited in any way. The following is an emotional outpour:
'The Road Not Taken'.
Where does one begin to write a synopsis of a single, life-changing moment?
My life changed today.
I've seen myself, and witnessed with my own eyes, my emotions, my endeavours and my personality rise anbd fall within a few minutes. What does one do in a moment of extreme emotional and physical distress? One man would pray, another girl would cry, but all would reflect. And reflect we shall. For me, I write. I was never good with words, never will be. I love to write. Below I will write about an event, a moment that I need to describe. This anecdote will probably never be heard nor finished.
It was attempted all the same.
My favorite poem is 'The Road Not Taken' by Robert Frost. What is your road not taken? Mine was revealed to me today. "Being one traveller, long I stood and looked down both as far as I could". In the end "two roads diverged in a yellow wood". And today, indeed, I, too, "shall be telling this with a sigh". Today, I crushed the soul of the single most important person in my life. For me it's not a question of how or why; it's an issue of courage, respect and dignity.
Today I peered down my two paths. Down one I saw truth, success, courage and dignity. The other I saw lies, failure, shame and sorrow. "I looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth [...] and both that morning equally lay". So what does one do -- face the fear and take the plunge or does one do what comes naturally and back away while life moves on passed in the outside lane? This is where my predicament stood.
My morning began with a hangover and ended in despair. The hangover was wonderful. I had spent the night with the person of my dreams, a person who had been my life for several years, a life that no longer exists. My day ended in despair. Also "knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back". I despair as my body feels like a massive void exists, a black nothingness slowly repairing and rejuvenating.
![[image loading]](http://s1.hubimg.com/u/1050004_f520.jpg)
My hangover was followed by a breath of fresh air as I made my journey homeward. Ironically, I, too, travelled down a lonely road that bent in the undergrowth. I heard the birds singing, heard the river tossing and turning and it followed its course, the sky was a bright, clear blue. There was even dew left on the settled grass. Before I knew it the hangover was gone.
But something still lingered.
It was not the bright, beautiful flowers in the garden, nor was it the dogs in the houses. No, it was her. She had not been forgotten, she had not been taken for granted. Instead, emotions came gushing out. Everything that had been my life, my happiness and my pride had been reignited and reinforced on the spot. Everything was swimming to the forefront of my brain.
I, however, was unlike Robert Frost. I was unable to travel down the other path "because it had better claim and wanted wear". No, instead I reverted back to all my old ways and habits.
I backed down. I turned into a coward.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and I -- I took the same road as always, and that has made all the difference.
Since beginning to write this piece I have slept on it. Nothing has become easier. I, however, have learned one thing - I will never be the same person again.
As the emotions of earlier dissipated I began to move on to more tradition hobbies, I began playing a video game. This continued for several hours and even through a delicious dinner.
Suddenly, I received a call. Immediately I knew something was wrong. Everything was eerily quiet. There was no background static noise coming through the mobile device. Instead, I heard whisperings. Suspicion, doubt and confusion swept over me in that moment. The house could have crumbled down around me and I wouldn't have noticed -- it wouldn't have made a difference. Something dramatic and significant was about to happen.
And, so, it happened.
I wasn't completely ignorant of what was happening; my peers, friends and acquaintances had advised me that what was going down might happen. And it did. I should have listened, I should have followed their advice. Instead, I backed away into my cocoon and blocked out all the problems. Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, the world did not pass me by. Instead, the world came crashing down in a rage of destruction and onslaught.
It was over in minutes.
My problem will always be be that my strength lies in writing and not in talking. I have communication issues. For over two years I had forgotten that I had ever been medically diagnosed with mild depression. Now, I remember it like it was yesterday.
I don't ask for forgiveness, I can't even say sorry. Responsibility is 100% mine and I must face the consequences by myself. Dr. Seuss once said " Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened". I can smile at the memories but have to cry at the despair.
What I did, or what occurred is irrelevant. What is important is what should have happened and how I should have approached the situation. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood". I took the road I always travelled and that has made all the difference. I am, indeed, telling this story with a sigh.
I don't know how to end something like this. I am emotionally distraught and physically exhausted. The lonely walk home in the middle of the night was one of the longest I have ever had to endure. There is nothing much to say about that night. It was dark and cloudless. I could make out all the stars. Above all it was cold, it was very, very cold. I arrived in my door, trudged my way upstairs and powered on my PC. I looked around. The keyboard, the clothes I'm wearing and the picture on my desktop have all been provided by her.
It's too much. I am overwhelmed.
I boot up a game and I just stare at the screen. My mind is blank, everyone around is oblivious. I am too emotional, now, to continue.
I have fucked up.
![[image loading]](http://insightfuldevelopment.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/fork-in-the-road.jpg)
What is your road not taken?
  
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Wow. Awesome story, awesome writing. 5/5
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Wow, thank you. I never knew this existed. Will definitely check it out one day when I get time time. Thanks.
On September 11 2012 18:41 Shady Sands wrote:
Wow. Awesome story, awesome writing. 5/5
Thank you very much, I appreciate it.
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""There are two paths you can go by, but in the long run, there's still time to change the road you're on. - Led Zeppellin" - Arcanefrost"
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Five starred. I liked the lucid prose (in spite of the somewhat puzzling content; is that a contradiction?).
Lengthy blather spoilered.
+ Show Spoiler +
Frosts' poem itself can be read in various ways. I just looked over it again, probably for the first time since school. It's one of those poems that seems to charge people, if only because it can so easily be read as didactic. My feeling is that the path chosen is itself irrelevant. If the narrator had chosen the one taken more often, that too would have made all the difference. For me, the power of the poem derives not so much from its (specious) emphasis on choice, but rather on its claim that memory has the power to distort the past into nostalgia, or longing; literally 'homesickness'.
The last stanza really plays around with verbal moods and tenses: from the subjunctive (potential, 'I will be...') to the realisation of this imagined future, that is, to the perfect past: 'I took the one less traveled'. Speaks to me of the mind's power, and tendency, to long, not just for an imagined future, but for an imagined past as well. I guess what I'm trying to say is that regret is inevitable, even if you've done nothing 'strictly' regrettable. Uh-oh. Of course, this stands true in the poem because here the path itself is not important, only the place the path leads to matters (the splitting of the path in the poem is both an instance of, and a metaphor for, decision-making). Though in reality, beyond the context of the poem, instants of decision-making, your one for example, are never metaphors; instead they have ramifications in and of themselves.
Maybe in my effort to console you, in whatever small way I can, I've exhibited confirmation bias. So be it. My point is that life is little else but a series of decisions (autonomic functions aside), which range from the trivial to the monumental. Don't fret to much about making a poor one, you'll have countless chances to redeem yourself. Nostalgia and regret are forces to be wary of. I think Frost would agree.
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On September 12 2012 00:16 ohsea.toc wrote:Five starred. I liked the lucid prose (in spite of the somewhat puzzling content; is that a contradiction?). Lengthy blather spoilered. + Show Spoiler +
Frosts' poem itself can be read in various ways. I just looked over it again, probably for the first time since school. It's one of those poems that seems to charge people, if only because it can so easily be read as didactic. My feeling is that the path chosen is itself irrelevant. If the narrator had chosen the one taken more often, that too would have made all the difference. For me, the power of the poem derives not so much from its (specious) emphasis on choice, but rather on its claim that memory has the power to distort the past into nostalgia, or longing; literally 'homesickness'.
The last stanza really plays around with verbal moods and tenses: from the subjunctive (potential, 'I will be...') to the realisation of this imagined future, that is, to the perfect past: 'I took the one less traveled'. Speaks to me of the mind's power, and tendency, to long, not just for an imagined future, but for an imagined past as well. I guess what I'm trying to say is that regret is inevitable, even if you've done nothing 'strictly' regrettable. Uh-oh. Of course, this stands true in the poem because here the path itself is not important, only the place the path leads to matters (the splitting of the path in the poem is both an instance of, and a metaphor for, decision-making). Though in reality, beyond the context of the poem, instants of decision-making, your one for example, are never metaphors; instead they have ramifications in and of themselves.
Maybe in my effort to console you, in whatever small way I can, I've exhibited confirmation bias. So be it. My point is that life is little else but a series of decisions (autonomic functions aside), which range from the trivial to the monumental. Don't fret to much about making a poor one, you'll have countless chances to redeem yourself. Nostalgia and regret are forces to be wary of. I think Frost would agree.
Insightful answer and certainly well thought out. The piece itself is definitely meant to be confusing at it doesn't actually directly have any actions/reactions involved. It certainly suggest that such has happened. The idea was to get the reader enveloped in the story, relate to it in some way or another. As you have said yourself, I believe that is what Frost had attempted and you agree that regardless of the path taken it would have made all the difference. My predicament stood there, too. Whichever one I had chosen would have made a massive difference -- but the real question is would the reaction, of the action, have been different?
Aye, I hope there are plenty of chances to redeem myself. Because, oh boy, I will.
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My road not taken is perhaps reading more often as a kid, and forcing myself to learn to read better. It would've helped me write better not only for school but for myself, for personal projects and the potential of becoming a writer in life. I don't feel like bothering you with a drab story, but your post was well written so I felt the need to support it somehow.
And those red lips reminded me of Lolita (by Nabokov) for some reason.
Also 5/5 to counter 1/5 ninja.
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EPT
