Regrets; a thing of the past.

Thursday, July 24, 2014
A school of thought.

"Everything flows" said Heraclitus. "Everything is in constant flux and movement, nothing is abiding. Therefore we cannot step twice into the same river. When I step into the river a second time, neither I nor the river are the same."

With each passing second, I'm changed. It may not be obvious now, but once, I start collecting the seconds, and the minutes and the hours, the thinking and the life experience starts to tabulate too.

I'm struggling with a strong emotion that I'm unfamiliar with. Regret.

Don't get me wrong. I do sometimes wish with all my heart that I can take back what I just said or did. But in the same instance, I believe that there is no point of regret. Remorse, yes. Remorse for the wrong that you've done. But regret - the carrying of your remorse - is just a waste of energy.

Because what's done is done. You can't change it anymore by holding on to it. Learn, live and move on. And after all, its all that has happened that has made you into the person who you are now.

This regret. Has been gnawing in me for a while. But now. I just wish so much, that I did things differently. That things turned out differently. That I reacted differently.

But there's no point to this regret. So I tuck in a box and move on to my next mistake.


Edit: I wrote this in August, 2011. Still holds true now in 2014. 

Scribbled Art

Meaningless meaningless, all these things are meaningless

Thursday, July 24, 2014
One thing I've learned in life is to never ask questions you don't want to hear the answer to.

How much money do I have in my bank account. How much money do you need to have to matter. Can a single boy and a girl just be friends. Is there really such thing as a soul mate. Where's mine. 

And if we're not asking things that only hurts us, we ask things that are pointless. 

Who made us. Why did He. What is the point of this life. What if there are aliens. What if I never let go. Would I be happier if I had chosen a different series of paths. What happens if I end up alone. 

And then there are questions that has neither a point nor answer. 

Why do we try so hard in this life. What are the things that defines us. Where would I be if I was born from another family. Would I still be me. 

And it is these thoughts that I've made sure are never louder than the books I read or the people I talk to or the shows I watch. So I ask myself one last question. One that I don't want to hear. One that has no point. No answer. 

What then, will become of me.