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Tonight is a night for reflections he says to himself as he drinks and chain smokes on his front porch and must be at work in a scant four hours. A night for thinking of what was and what could have been versus the now and what is.

Six years ago near to the day was the decision made that took him on this journey to the present. Six years of regrets, bitterness and painful pills to swallow.

Why did he choose the path that took him here on this day, this night? Why did he not go to one of the best schools in the world when he was accepted in a year that less than 10% of applicants were? Why did he instead settle for a third rate school in a second rate town? Was it money or fear?

A little of both he supposes as he stubs out the first of what si sure to be many cigarettes this night. He takes a swig of mediocre beer, lights another smoke and continues with his contemplations....

So it was fear and it was lack of money that kept him from what would have ultimately been the stuff dreams are made of. Lack of money to afford the 25+K/year tuition at Carnegie Mellon certainly. But also fear that he couldn't cut it at that prestigious institute. He knew his abilities and he knew what he was able to do yet he didn't.

Now, of course, he realizes that he could have risen to the occasion, challenged and surprised himself at his own accompolishments. But then he didn't knwo that he could rdo his best when his back was up against the wall and make something of what he was given.

Size, brains, intellect, curiousity, self doubt. His gifts and his bane. It took him many years to realize he wasn't stupid and wasn't able. But by then it was nearly too late. Too late to take advantage of the opportunities in place. Too late and too soon to realize what his priorities should have been and what he should have done.

Many things were different back then. The fights, the realizations, the difficulties in navigating the life that was thrust upon him. Many things happened to him that he wished never were and he didn't know how to handle them or make the best of the lemons that could have made lemonade.

But fear, experience and the past kept him back. Sure the decisions he's made and the now he leads have their pluses. Great friends that mean the world to him and the people he's met along this path mean so much. But what could have been had he just made a few different decisions in the way back times?

He reflects on one of his favorite authors, Michael Moorcock and his ideas. The Multiverse he called it--a theory in which there is not one, but many existences we live and could be based on the diferent decisions we make on a daily basis. Infinite world and infinite possibilities await us around every bend of existence.

He thinks of this and wonders if there's a version of him out there who has made the best of decisions and possibilities afforded him. He wonders if there's a him out there that's completely content or at least happy and on the way to the good life. Of course there could be other versions living in the gutter with no hope and no possibilities for a better tomorrow.

At least this him has hope and has the abilities to change. The chance to set things right and make things better. Make things what they can be instead of what they could have been. For the past is just that--in the past. Irrevocable and unchangable. Yet the future is not written in stone and even if it were, stone can be broken.

So here's to stone. That it can be changed. That it can be molded, carved, made into that which we want it to be and that which it can be.

Here's to choice and the branches of the tree of life. That we can all choose what take roots. What whithers. What reaches towards the sky, the sun and the future.

Here's to living the now and making the best of the msitakes of the past. Turning dirt into gardens. Changing empty lots into play grounds. Letting life take root and spread to bring joy and happiness to those that see it. Those that will do the best with it and fill the emptiness.

Here's to choice and change. That we may alter what is and make it what can be. That nothing is ever as bad as it seems.

He sits back, reclining on the old rusty yellow swing chair, takes anothe swig, another drag and looks to the sky. The sky which is never as empty as it seems. The sky which is filled with both emptiness and infinite promise because beyond the darkness of the existence we lead is the most brilliant of lights and the promise of undiscovered amazement.

There can be no room for fear. No room for second guessing. No room for hesitancy in that which we call life. Because that which keeps us back, is that which kills us a little bit at a time.

From the moment we're born we start dying, but while we're here we owe it to ourselves to make things the best that we can. We only get one shot at this and so we have to do the best with.

He looks back at what he's written and hope it can make a difference with him. Hopes that he can stay the course and make the decisions that need making. Hopes that he'll figure out what he needs to do and do it. Every day that passes is less time to make something of himself and every day that pesses is a lost opportunity. He hopes there will be no more lost opportunities.