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I don't know.
This thing is whatever I need it to be at the time. Currently it's a write-out-my-stream-of-consciousness-to-make-myself-feel-better place.
Reminiscing for no reason
This week's kind of amde me see how much I fail at my own philosophy.
For the past year I've told myself to live without regret, to do everything I want to (within reason) so I don't hate myself for it later.

So far I've ridden roller coasters, started playing DnD, and made more close friends.
The only regrets I still have are the ones that I can't change now, and they're starting to hurt...and I can't figure out why.

The only two that come to mind are within the same parameters: My grandfathers.
I was old enough when they died to have gotten to know them, but I was a stupid child. For some reason, I was kind of afraid of them sometimes.

Now, I miss getting cherry tomatoes from Pop-pop's Maryland farm every summer and going to Orlando to visit Grandpa, and getting a new stuffed animal from the VFW's claw machine every time.
I guess I got lucky, the last time I talked to my paternal grandfather, the last thing I said was 'I love you'. The maternal quasi-step father (he wasn't really married to my grandmother, but they would have been if his cancer had gone into remission), I don't remember the last time I spoke to him but I do remember hating myself at the funeral for not talking to him more.

The worst part about my paternal grandfather's death is that two months later he was supposed to see us at Disney for our band trip's performance. I still don't know how I made it through that day, honestly...
I think this weekend I'm going to look for the koala bear I used to hate because it was maroon and cream and resembles the color of half-cooked meat.
I know, it sounds gross, and that's why I used to hate it.
Now, I think I want it more than ever because it reminds me so much of Grandpa.
And I should find my bamboo walking stick that Pop-pop gave me a few weeks before he died.

This is kind of...not my normal thought process but it's been progressively getting worse recently and I can't figure out why.

Perhaps my no-regrets policy is the cause?
My lack of guts contributes to my regrets.
I think I'll fix that. I only live once, as proven by my past. And since I technically shouldn't be here, shouldn't I enjoy my life even more?





 
 
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