My usual style is to open the blogger, type, click publish ( including the spelling and grammatical mistakes that are so part of my blog) and done.
I am a perfectionist and I could easily avoid the mistakes, if I would only read what I typed..but each word that I write came straight from my heart and why would I want to read them again ( and torment my aching soul)?
I am actually down with a bad case of flu..and am stuck at home…and my brain seems to be in a Claritin induced haze..
There are things I want to write..but it is not coming the way I want it to be..so after the nth time I decided I will write something else.
My old age..
I have reserved my old age just for me..
You see, my childhood I lived for my sisters and amma. I am no Bharath Matha..but my family needed me then and I was there for them..I don’t consider what I did for my family as a sacrifice. It wasn’t. It was something that needed to be done and I did..
Much of my adulthood.. I lived for my children..Again it was not a sacrifice.. I did it with all my heart. I was there for them, every step of the way..
So that leaves my old age..
I want that to be just for me..
I want to rage, rage against the dying light..
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Do not go gentle into that good night,
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Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
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Because their words had forked no lightning they
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Do not go gentle into that good night.
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Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
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Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
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And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
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Do not go gentle into that good night.
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Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
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Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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And you, my father, there on the sad height,
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Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
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Do not go gentle into that good night.
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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Dylan Thomas