I knew I could do it, but I didn’t
A typical narrative that runs in most peoples’ heads. Offering excuses for inertia, sounding too genuine and logical. The most dangerous part is that… most of us are included in these so called “most people”. And some of us think it is too late.
A middle age man (Define middle:Insert your definition here) standing on a platform, the image is blurred, as the memory of the event has faded away. I knew I could do it, but I didn’t. Perhaps a man that is much older is reminiscing his past youth, regretting the things that he didn’t do.
I had my hands in the pocket, because I was too lazy to take them out and put them to good use. Use that they were intended for. Doing things, making stuff and most of all making mistakes. But I didn’t do it, and that’s where the regret sets in. The regret, was not in making mistakes, if one were to be mistaken, one could apologise and repent. But if one were to be inactive, that I consider a crime against nature itself. For nature is not meant to be inactive. Inactivity is death, thereby the definition of it.
It was too cold, the activity could have been too hard to endure. The risks that I would have taken in order to accomplish my desires would have been too hard. I chose to stay on the safe ground and keep my hands, where they felt warm. Warmth of my own fear of failure.
It’s too late now, that I have missed my train. I am the same person that was before. I didn’t take chances before, when I was young and youthful, do you think I am going to take any chances now, when perhaps I am much older. I might even say to myself that trains of opportunities have stopped for me. As if I have been placed on another dimension of existence. From where I am, I can’t see any glimmer or light or hope.
They say its just me, I say its all the people that push me out of their way while they catch their opportunities. Somehow I get left behind with a few other scattered on the platform, some have their heads in the coat, some have their arms up the sleeve and others are just like me, hands in the pocket.
I rather just stand here with my hands in the pocket, saving myself from the cold, from the risks of losing, time, money and effort. Looking at other trains that come and go, full of people that are on their way to their destination. While I stand here immobile from the lack of will. Perhaps if I stand here long enough, I will be able to come up with an excuse “Why I didn’t”