the 80-year drive home

Got home relatively late last night, foolishly went on a frenzy of editing & uploading photos from my close friends 21st. Happy Birthday to you my dear (if you're reading this). Hope you had a great night!

On the drive home, was running out of petrol.. and here's the photo evidence. Had my camera in the car.. and everything i do these days, will coincide with me thinking if this is blog worth material.

On the left,, is my fill up on the pump. It makes me sad. That is all. That is usually a weekly thing. Boo on petrol! LOL. Bought a Ribena drink, softened the blow of the fuel prices, and all was relatively well after that :)

I read on a friend's Facebook nick over the week past, about being different. It goes something like this... "Everyone is trying so hard to be different when in fact everyone is the same for wanting to be different". It left me in a, "That's deep" kinda moment.. And it got me thinking slightly.. here was what i came up with:

Personally, i don't think being different is so bad.. wanting to be different from everyone else and not conforming with the rest of the world, are two totally different things. wanting to be different to make yourself known, is clearly not the same as stepping out and standing up for what you believe in. wanting to be 'different', i think, is an expression of individuality.. and if "not caring about what other people think", makes you flick your hair back and scoff... then there is clearly much to learn.

I can do it this way, or i can go down the lesser known, arts student, soul searching way...

This post just reminded me of a poem by Robert Frost, "The Road not Taken" (or The Road Less Travelled.) How untimely. I first heard this in a film, Dead Poet Society. Though it features Robin Williams, it's not as humorous as you might first think.. quite a thought provoking film. I highly recommend it, to anyone AND everyone! :) Anyway, here's the poem.. Enjoy!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, 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 onto 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 took the one less traveled by

And that has made all the difference.