(no subject)
I could have been something special. A thought that we all wrestle with, the knowledge that we have not now, nor will we ever achieve the extraordinary. I, like my father and his, will work away my life, and at best, enjoy a quiet retirement.
I am not a great warrior; I will not conquer my enemies or the globe. I am not a great wise man; I will solve none of the great questions. I am not a great writer; I will never write well enough to truly move my audience.
I stand at the junction in which dreamers die, and the ordinary is born. Give up your unique goals for the common, more easily achievable ones. Make some money, buy a house, find a wife, start a family. Family is the easiest legacy to leave, but one I was never drawn to.
My children will more than likely stand at this crossroad, and be forced to make this heartbreaking, soul shattering decision. This decision that has been rotting in the back of my mind for a decade. Do I have to choose between the hopes for my life and the necessities of living?
Perhaps I can put off this choice a bit longer, but I fear it has already been made.