regret or destiny?

When does regret seek its throne in one’s heart?  Amidst the good belonging of life and living, why does regret have to be part of it all?  In the great proposal of one’s pursuit for dreams and horizons, is the realization of a life not well lived a curse for the troubled heart?

Man.  He is more than life.

Indeed.

Yet there are reasons that come to his trials and try to take away his reason to go on.  Often times, man fails and stumbles to hopeless fate.  He doesn’t realize it at first for he becomes occupied with the drowning of dreams – the moment he thinks that dreams are not for man.  This is the moment for the grip of blind abandonment – subtle, unnoticeable.  Then life moves on.  Not anymore with reasons for a destination – maybe amidst the silence of dignity – but with the givings of tomorrow.  A life without reason for living yet continued to be lived upon.  Reasons, meaning, and worthwhile living – they are just the clouds of today never to be seen again tomorrow and forever.

And then – regret.  The angel of awakening.

When this comes, everything comes rushing back.  The memories of dreams bigger than imagination.  The life hoped – seen helplessly abandoned along the dusty road of the past only to be enthroned in high regard by the knights of eternal remorse.  Life becomes a shadow of meaninglessness – continued to be tied by the string of the past, of reproach.  This is where regret finds its throne – standing in majestic nobility to meet the death of life – dragging the soul of the one whose life is a bleak testimony of the beauty of dreaming and the utter persecution of misgiving.  And everything is not but for a fault of one.

Man.

His choices – that for inaction.  An endless awaiting for the time to stop.  A nuisance laid by the self to perpetual doom – of a life with enough reasons for living well.  Indeed, it is man who shapes destinies.  May it be for meaninglessness and regret or to the abundance of the fulfillment of dreams or delusions.

Whichever it may be, only man knows.

Only he. 

Especially you philosophers – men of higher learning they say.  Us.

But we are still men.  We are no different.

Indeed. rheinanhd.