It was one of those rare days that I allowed myself a few more hours of sleep without feeling guilty. My computer rang at around half past nine in the morning – it was my best friend Skyping from Manila. We ended up chatting for more than an hour or so. There were no big news. Just catching up on the latest philosophical musings of ours. Robert Frost was the big topic of the conversation, or rather, his famous poem was. In order to remind myself, that the universe is unfolding as it should, I am reproducing it here for the nth time. I sure hope, she’s right. Maybe it is indeed time for a new day.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
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