I think people stop themselves from doing the things they want to do. I just think you never know how long you're going to be around so you might as well do the things that are intriguing. Nobody really cares anyway so you have to do what makes you happy.
Even if you walk exactly the same route each time - as with a sonnet - the events along the route cannot be imagined to be the same from day to day, as the poet's health, sight, his anticipations, moods, fears, thoughts cannot be the same.