I hate myself today, and it will haunt me for the rest of the days.

I saw an old man falling from his motorbike today. He was a junk collector slash karang guni. 

He was old, fragile and most of all, a really poor man. And I saw him fell. He didn't notice the pothole and fell into the drain, with his motorbike full of heavy items crushing on him. He barely had the strength to carry up his bike and in his condition, seems impossible to save himself. And I saw him trying to push away his bike. 

I hesitated. I see him struggling for seconds before I ran to him. Why the fuck did I hesitated? I feel so disgusted with myself. I couldn't snap out of the slight petrification. He reminded me of my uncle who took so much care of me. Who loves me as much as his own sons. Who still do now. 

I. Really. Hate. Myself.

Although he sustains no serious injuries, I had a suspicion that he was lying and just trying not to be a burden. I felt like crying after that and of course, felt bad I didn't help him straightaway.

Please if there is God. Hear my plight.