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Cabinet of regrets.

Cabinet of regrets.

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Maxilla
A few days ago I found a supremely depressing note I had written while drinking:

"It's almost as if I've subconsciously picked these years to cram in all my life regrets."

After the initial shock the implications began to sink in and I really began to consider all the things in my life that I really do regret doing, and not doing, the things I forgot and the things I refuse to. But ultimately I decided that the logic of my drunken introspective bout was fundamentally flawed.

Regrets are not something that you can squeeze into just one time period and move on. The nature of regret defines it as self-perpetuating; you stack regret upon regret and build your life upon and around this pile. As it grows you climb higher and when you look back you are looking down through misty memories warped by nostalgia into becoming "before regret." I doubt there was ever such a time.
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