the road not taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

i have been thinking about this poem a lot lately. Though i have loved this poem for a long time, it's only now, in the phase of life that i am in, that i perhaps understand what the author really meant.

The burden of being a Libran never felt so heavy before...

i am torn between what i am expected to do and what i want to do. 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

i have been actively interviewing for jobs that match my perceived cerebral capabilities and perhaps more importantly, social stature. 

But the prospect of leaving behind the life that i made for myself in the past is so deliciously inviting...and frightening.

i had thrown it all away when i moved abroad but can i truly throw it all away for good? Because that would mean erasing all trace of what i was and what i could have been.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Sayonara.