I don’t want to be bitter and full of blames when I grow old. I don’t.
I saw that frail old man today. Angry at what the past had done to him. Angry at what he missed. Angry at the man he thought had prevented him from becoming his best. He was bitter. And full of regrets.
“Will I be him?” I asked myself.
“You can’t! You mustn’t! But you just might,” my alter ego said.
I am at this junction right now. Doubts abound. And there are no directions or signs to follow. Blindfolded by my own thoughts and ego, I must take the step and make a choice. Will this be? Or will that be?
No, I can’t afford to grow old bitter and full of blames. Like that frail old man I saw today.