I would rather be a cautionary tale born from pursuit of betterment, than a cautionary tale born from lack of audacity. I don’t want to age into a fretful shadow, haunted by regret and emaciated dreams.

29 thoughts on “Musings

  1. All that getting emaciated is only the carcass we carry our dreams around in. I walked out of the doc’s office, hurried past a woman no more than a Cadaver in Wheelchair. Oxygen mask on, wrapped in blankets against a mild chill and I wondered what she’d dreamed of Christmas, what she’d known, or been or done, what was in her mind. even the cadaver in a wheelchair was someone, is someone still with audacious aspirations wrapped in a living cadaver’s blankets. And try as we might to build ourselves a body of experience that will live for us, sadly, few of us are Beethoven. Or hell, even Brad Delp. Because somewhere on this planet 24/7 someone is within earshot of “Don’t Look Back.” And “Ode to Joy” and could care less how much iron we pumped or how many doors we opened for cadavers in wheelchairs…

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