Regret, how strange thou art
You are like a constantly stinging rash
Worse with each remembrance
You can tear people to shreds
Yet if I am perceptive
I see how vital the actions behind the regret are
In making up the fabric of my current being
So much so, that regret turns to wisdom
And how can you regret gaining wisdom
And so regret melts, like ice illuminated
The warmth of wisdom’s light
smothers the flames of regret
And from the ash sprouts life, new life
So should we regret?
Can we honestly say we want to change what has happened?
Chaos theory tells us – it is impossible to say things could be better had that not happened…
So why do we regret?
Why do we convince ourselves things might actually be better if… that didn’t happen?
To let go of regret, is to realize the reality of recursion
That falling leads to getting up
That each fine detail is detailed in our present form
And to erase the smallest mistake, is to fracture the masterpeice that is you, that is me
The never ending peice of art that is being molded by our regret… our shame… our guilt.
Can you feel it?
