Videotape
Once again, life shows me its teeth, swallowing me into it's innards--the void of uncertainty and loss.
I feel regret. The last few days, I've been looking at the last years of my life with horrific scrutiny, and shaking my head at most of the things I've done. Though none of them, in the worldly scheme of things are truly that horrible, and worse has been done obviously, they are unforgivable by some eyes. (And no, I don't have a record of any sort with any law enforcement. I meant it when I said of no worldly importance. But, normally the importance of one spirit is more than the world entire--I know this first hand--and it can make a small mistake feel like murder in the first degree.)
20-20 hindsight. It's a funny thing. In one regard, you can see all the mistakes you made clearly, like the clear blue sky after a hurricane--shining the daylight down upon all the wreckage and debris. But, in the other regard, it makes you feel the loss, and regret for making said mistakes, and the destruction you have caused--like one of the survivors of the hurricane, looking upon the remains of the house his family has had for years, and how it all will never be the same again.
I've had lots of time to think; as I sit in my room, painting gears for jewelry for hours on end, music droning on in the background. I wonder if I'll ever forgive myself for my mistakes, let alone others. Some days, it seems too dreary to even consider.
I close my eyes, and try to let myself escape.
"When I'm at the pearly gates, This'll be on my videotape."
I feel regret. The last few days, I've been looking at the last years of my life with horrific scrutiny, and shaking my head at most of the things I've done. Though none of them, in the worldly scheme of things are truly that horrible, and worse has been done obviously, they are unforgivable by some eyes. (And no, I don't have a record of any sort with any law enforcement. I meant it when I said of no worldly importance. But, normally the importance of one spirit is more than the world entire--I know this first hand--and it can make a small mistake feel like murder in the first degree.)
20-20 hindsight. It's a funny thing. In one regard, you can see all the mistakes you made clearly, like the clear blue sky after a hurricane--shining the daylight down upon all the wreckage and debris. But, in the other regard, it makes you feel the loss, and regret for making said mistakes, and the destruction you have caused--like one of the survivors of the hurricane, looking upon the remains of the house his family has had for years, and how it all will never be the same again.
I've had lots of time to think; as I sit in my room, painting gears for jewelry for hours on end, music droning on in the background. I wonder if I'll ever forgive myself for my mistakes, let alone others. Some days, it seems too dreary to even consider.
I close my eyes, and try to let myself escape.
"When I'm at the pearly gates, This'll be on my videotape."