Is it just me who looks back on his life and thinks he screwed it up, always making all the wrong decisions? You know, almost to the point of thinking I have wasted my whole life? Almost.
Or is that a fairly universal reaction when people look back? Do any of us really achieve anything? How many of us leave something lasting? What percentage of us, actually, change the world? It would be 0. something %, on all counts. Pretty much all of us just tread water until death.
Too harsh?
Tell me how it isn’t true?
I can't help but think that my last words will be a few lines of that Peggy Lee's song, Is That All There Is.
I make a decision about this blog. I write a daily journal and I write this blog. They have never been the same thing. Well, it's time to rationalise and instead of writing them separately, I am no longer going to try and write a separate blog, my daily journal is going to become my blog.
Not really sure why it was separate in the first place. I think it was some kind of sense of privacy. You know, the private me and the public me. It still kind of feels like I am giving too much away, but now I want to get back to writing fiction too, something I have neglected for too long.
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