Woodstock

Today I did not photograph a young man sitting at the mouth of an alley, playing guitar and singing, next to a jar with a few pennies in it. I did not look him in the eye or drop any money for him. I did not buy anything from the store which sold meaningless baubles, nor did I photograph the crystal carousel sitting on the shelf.
I did not stop to chat with anyone, even though a couple of people tried to stop with me. I did not take a picture of the motorcycle gang walking out of the quilt supply store, each with their own bag of cloth and thread.
Today I did not appreciate antiquities, nor did I buy a good looking copy of Beelzebub's Tales to His Grandchildren. I did not eat at one of the numerous local restaurants. I did not bask in the afternoon sun, but rather avoided it in the humid air. I did not confront any of the people that I wanted to, any of the people that would have probably been able to tell me an amazing story.
I did not live today the way I should have, the way I try to always live my life. I did not learn anything today, or hear an amazing story, or meet an amazing person. I had every opportunity, but I wasted it, and I regret blowing the chance when I had it.