Edge here, with a brief little piece.
 
Robert Frost once wrote:
 
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelled by,
And that has made all the difference."
 
 
A little history on myself here:
 
I haven’t always been what I am today. I am what I am now because somewhere along the line I realized what a mistake I was making.
 
See, I took the High Road in life. I listened to my parents and stayed away from drugs, and parties, and women, and all the other so-called "corruptive" influences. I was a "good" kid. I was also a boring kid. Never went out, very few friends, et cetera.
 
Needless to say, I was in the lower class way back when. All the goody twoshoes’ were. I was king of the lower class because I was a heck of a lot smarter than any of the rest of them, but that’s not saying much. Being king of the lower class is like being king of dirt. It wasn’t great.
 
And then something led me to believe that I deserved better, I’m not sure what it was, exactly, but something pushed me. This all happened so long ago that I can’t remember exactly how I did it… but somehow I moved up a rank. I joined the middle class. Such a thing almost never happens, but I did it. I lost my best friend in the process, but I gained a whole bunch of new friends, including a new best friend, so it was worth it in the end. I also had to give up my kingly status for a more middle-of-the-pack one, but that was fine by me too.
 
During my time in the middle class, I grew to despise the upper class, as any good middle classmen should. I still stayed away from drugs, parties, and sex like most middle classmen, but I actually went out on evenings and weekends, and had more fun.
 
Along with the perks came some less than pleasant changes, although I considered them great at the time: Morals.
 
See, drinking, smoking, sex, partying, school teams, etc. are all the possessions of the upper class. As a middle classman, I was supposed to hate the upper class, and consequently I also became strongly opposed to drugs, sex, parties, and school teams, among other things. The upper class outnumbered the middle class 3:1 where I went to school, so truly I had taken the road less travelled.
 
I thought of this route as the High Road. It seemed to me that having morals was a great thing, and that anyone without morals was probably unworthy of life. They were scum to me, the upper class.
 
I changed schools as everyone does at a certain age, and found that in this new school the hierarchy was still very much intact, although the middle class to upper class ratio was nearly 1:5.
 
I spent the first year or so hating the upper class as was usual. Of course, with the upper class being so massive, it was impossible to hate them all. Instead I turned my hatred towards the school itself.
 
I didn’t concentrate too hard on making friends here in the first year, which was a big mistake.
 
Sometime around the midpoint of the second year, my views started to change. I started thinking differently about the school, and as such I started thinking differently about the upper class. I became jealous, I guess you could say.
 
Along with the envy came desire. I wanted to be like them. And, over time, I starting changing. My attitude towards life in general began changing. I became more confident and more ambitious, to name a few. I became accepting and even supportive of drugs, sex, school teams, and the like. In time, I became a lot like much of the upper class.
 
But I did not enter the upper class. Why not? Since I had opted not to make many friends, I had no friends in the upper class, and making new friends at the end of the second year becomes nearly impossible.
 
Thus was my state: I was a middle classman who acted like an upper classman.
 
In other words, I was rejected by both factions.
 
And, looking back, I realized how many opportunities I missed entirely. Back in the first year, I had MANY chances to join the upper class if I wanted to. At this point I saw that the enemy which had placed me into this state was myself. Any sane person would have accepted all of those chances gladly, but not me. I had chosen clinge to my morals.
 
It was too late for me, I realized. I had practically destroyed myself.
 
Yet I found this to be unacceptable. So, I looked for scapegoats. I blamed 3 things:
 
 
Genetics, for giving me very little natural skill in anything important.
 
Geography, for placing me in a suburb miles away from everything important.
 
My parents, for giving me those morals in the first place.
 
 
 
 
Morals… Morals, how I detest those morals. The moral High Road is what I took, thinking it to be the right path. I scoffed at those on the Low Road. Then I realized that the High Road leads nowhere, and those who I had laughed at before wouldn’t let me on the Low Road anymore.
 
Oh, when I think about how my life could have been if I had realized earlier…
 
Had I been born with the right face in the right place to the right people, I would have realized what took me two years longer to realize: That morals only hold you back from greater things. I didn’t see that until it was too late, and look at me now: Condemned by my former friends, and rejected by those whom I desperately seek friendship with. Now I am forced to try and restore myself to glory through any means necessary.
 
Frankly, I do not care what that means anymore. If I were presently asked to drink, or smoke, or engage in all kinds of adulterous affairs, I would in an instant if I would be guarenteed entry to the upper class in exchange. Even being a peasant in the upper class would be fine by me, because it’s better than what I have now.
 
Listen to me. Morals are absolutely useless to have if they’re holding you back from greater things (and quite often they will). Trust me on this one. I learned my lesson the hard way. Don’t give up all of your morals for no reason, but keep yourself in a mindset where you can drop them at a moment’s notice if need be.
 
 
 
 
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less travelled by.
And that’s what fucked me over.
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