The Road not taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry that i could not travel bot

so starts one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost. it pretty much sums up my life right now. Two roads, and which to take? I stand in the middle of a beautiful but slowly dying woods and would pay any amount to have a quick glance down each path and then make the choice, or even be spared the trouble of making it and just go straight to heaven. Am i so morbid, that i have no great desire to live? No, i could or would never end it myself, but i would honestly be content to die right now. How selfish are my motives that i would rather die and be spared the pains of life that try to bring others with me into eternal bliss. But what difference in the scheme of things? God can use someone else. WHy me? no one else seems to notice me, or would care if someone else were to take my responsibilities.

No, i would hate to be considered a quiter, and though i may not be the best studied for the test of life, i shall prove myself by at least trying. Though i am by far not near the best, perhaps i shall make my own special mark, and for now i will return to my act of loving life.