Me. Well, me and fame.
While thousands of highschoolers were subjected to the melancholic idealism of taking the road less travelled by, I, who didn't think much of the poem (such arrogance, even then. This better pay off in the future), listened to McLachlan and thought she was a much better poet than almighty Frost.
Aihh, the folly of youth.
Anyway, The Road Not Taken (that's the poem we had to read in F5. or was it F4. or F3. whatever) is not Frost's greatest poem. It's just the easiest to understand.
His masterpiece is To Earthward.
Frost, like all brilliant writers, suffered from depression. Maybe he didn't so much suffer from it as milk it for all its literary worth. If you read any of his poems, you can sense an undercurrent of futility.
Undercurrents of Futility:
1.Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh - The Road Not Taken
2.I only hope that when I am free
As they are free to go in quest
Of the knowledge beyond the bounds of life
It may not seem better to me to rest - Misgivings
Now, I ask you, are those not frightening? He knows that no matter what we do, we will regret it in some way; some small part of us will wonder what if?
What if we made the wrong choice?
What if someone finds out?
What if I hadn't said anything? What if I had? What if I had never even known these people?
What if????
Like the Marvel comic of the same name, the possibilities are endless.
And if the possibilities are endless, does that mean that there are endless numbers of alternate universes where we did that which we didn't do in this timeline?
That everytime the moment came where we had a choice, a universe was created to hold the consequences of it, the choice we didn't make?
Because I feel like every choice we don't make is as huge as every choice we do make, and I don't like to think that it just stops here. That was it. The end.
I mean, why would God bother with us so much if we're all just going to screw it up in the end?
It makes me feel a bit better that somewhere out there, we made the right choices, and we are living the ideal life.
Somewhere out there, I didn't screw up.
But when you think about your parents...somewhere out there, we don't exist.
Huh.
That sucks.
What? Me not exist? You gotta be shitting me.
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