Thoughts of a confused Ms. Mysterious

Nah, today I'm not in a dramatic mood. I've had my share of depressions this week. It's beautiful rainy, Friday, and I was reading this interview made to Roger Waters, Pink Floyd's main writer from 1965 till 1985, when he left the band. Anyway, the guy gave a concert a couple of weeks ago, and reading his interview I came across this:

“Maybe it’s because when I was 29 (...) I realised that I wasn’t in some kind of rehearsal for a life that was going to start at a point in the future. I suddenly got that it had already started, that we only have one shot..."

I don't know, I guess it just hit right on the spot. The thoughts I've been dealing with, the rage, the fear, the sadness, the frustration. That phrase defines it all. I've always felt as if life hadn't started yet. I felt that I had all the time in the world. Time to chose my path, time to learn new things, time to succeed. And suddenly I realized, after 29 years that that's not the case. I was still deciding what I wanted to be when I grow up, and I realized I'm all grown up now. And I wonder, have I lost that ONE shot to do something with my life?

I've been struggling with myself, with the world, trying to decide if I should keep on believing in second chances, in fresh new starts. If I should think that dreams come true no matter how old you are... That you can always make up for your past mistakes. And reality has been pulling me down. I haven't lost faith completely, but I'm close. Some days are better than others I suppose. Today is one of those days that I just allow myself not to think. Just for the weekend, I hide in my make believe, perfect little world where I'm immortal, where time doesn't exists... There's nothing to haunt me there, not until reality catches up with me, on Sunday night.

What's killing me all the time is that phrase, that phrase that I can never get out of my mind, that just echoes from the depths of my brain, that will haunt me 'till I die;

There's nothing worst than wasted talent.

(From DeNiro's A Bronx Tale)

And to realize, that whatever talent I have, or had, has been wasted, it just destroys me. Over and over and over again.

So, is there hope for everyone? No matter their age? No matter their past mistakes? Can you truly start from scratch and become someone different? Better? Will you be able to do it? Will the world give you a chance?

Anyway, I guess today was a good day to rant about this. I just had to take it off my chest.
Have a good weekend my dear sinners, wherever and whoever you are...