Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference
-Robert Frost
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Henry Thoreau said, "When its time to die, lets not discover that we have never lived."
The prospect of fading into obscurity and mediocrity frightens me. Too live a life on a path destined for 'good' seems so meaningless. For too long I have been content with existing but never living. Going from day-to-day letting life happen to me and not being bothered at all by it. I don't know how or why but I've changed.
Deux routes ont divergé dans un bois, et je
j'ai pris celui moins parcouru près,
et cela a fait toute différence.
Au milieu d'hiver j'ai découvert en moi un été invincible.
Je sens en feu. Je suis libre. Je m'anime.
'Choisi' est le moins que je puisse dire.
Je suis nommé.
From green to orange to red
