I’ve decided that it’s better to show up than not. Better to make an effort than not. So here I am, sitting here, making an effort, tap, tapping away. These are the choices I’m making. They are easy when I’m feeling oh so fine. Not so when I’m not but they matter more then. It’s a measure of being a responsible adult. If I could have my drathers, I would like somebody else do it all for me. I have moments feeling like pouting and having a tantrum. I like to say, Make it better! But who would I say that to?

No one could do it better than me. Live my life, that is. I just have to suck it up and do it myself. Oh, I’ve made many a mistakes. I’ve seen my life flash before my eyes. I saw every frame of it. I wonder at myself. Why did I do this and that? What was I thinking/feeling at the time? Pain and regret would course through me. If I would be given another run at this life of mine, I probably would do the same damn things again. It was probably the best I could have done at the time.

There’s no such thing as a life of no regrets. That’s just my thoughts. We are but human. We are full of fallacies, contradictions and emotions. Who can honestly say that they’ve never look back with nostalgia or whatever, wishing for otherwise? Not I. I’ve been hearing Frank Sinatra in my head all day. His My Way speaks to the best in me. It certainly tugs at my heartstrings. I like to think that I’ve done it my way but I haven’t. Regrets I have many but I have done the best I could .