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At some point in our lives we realize we have accepted a particular role.  We sign on to a certain way of being, a character, and we cannot even remember at what point we signed our souls away.  One day we wake up, and we find ourselves in a certain life, a certain way of dressing, a group of friends, a designated attitude.  I suppose this is life, and the actions we take that lead us on our paths are so slight, so gradual that we don't realize we have all along been creating a map that leads us to ourselves until we stop to reflect.  We do this so seldom.  Reflecting.  I suppose that is the reason I am writing this now.  Something happened to stop me, and made me realize that the day to day droning along was not without meaning.  It lead me here.  Nothing is really meaningless.  Not when you stop to reflect.  Not only this, I have so little control over what happens around me, that I damn well better make sure that my personal actions are meaningful.  I can control that much.  I feel pains of regret when thinking about so much of my past that I slept through.  I cannot live in that regret, and I cannot waste the present anymore.  The next moment can be stolen from me without even being given a chance to fight to keep it, much less to live in it meaningfully.  I can despair for this realization, or I can honor the memories that, right now, sadden me, and stay awake for the ride.