I wrote this last night, after a particularly long time (read: the ENTIRE DAY) of pure, utter doing absolutely nothing- I didn't even get dressed, let alone really get off the couch. Of course, I wanted to beat up on myself. Instead, I turned around and started writing.
Here's what came out:
The decisions of today were mine; I made them.
I chose the path I took.
The day is over, no going back;
So what is the point of looking down on myself?
Beating me up, for making that choice?
The choice was mine to make, and made it I did.
No by taking action, but by avoiding taking all action.
The choice of the path I do no wish to continue upon.
This choice is easy to make, but carries a heavy burden.
I wish for freedom-
This choice offers the easy fruit of seeming like freedom
But at the end of the day
When the "coulda, shoulda, woulda" starts
When changing that choice is too late
The burden lies heavy on my heart.
Why did I do that?
The choice of the easy fruit-
So tempting, but with such a bitter aftertaste.
Too late to change today's choice.
But perhaps I can learn, and remember this lesson for another day,
Another choice.
Pick the easy path?
Or choose Freedom's path?
The decision is mine to make.
