This post is an experiment.
My day was rather bland. I was quiet for most of it like I have been quiet for most of time in the days that have come before today. It’s hard for me to explain, yet it’s somewhat easy. It’s easy to put into words, yet it is difficult to evoke the kind of meaning that I might intend for it.
I made a stupid decision. At least that is what it seems like. The stupid decisions and outcomes are the ones I remember. The ones that evoked feelings of self-loathe, anger, angst, and resentment. Somehow they are much easier to remember that the things that arouse the exact opposite, happy memories. They are for me at least. As little as they are in comparison to what some other people have to go through, they are the ones that are preponderant in the vacuum that can be described as my mind.
I can’t really go into delineating the bad decision that I made as I feel that may be counter-productive. In fact, what I am more concerned with these days is why I react to them the way I do. It’s reasonably common knowledge that we all make mistakes and errors in judgement that are part of our “growing pains”. Once in a while we throw sensibility away or we have the occasional “brain fart”, no matter how careful we try to be. We all know this and we have learnt to live with it.
If this is the case, then why can I not get over how much I have screwed up? Have I screwed up that bad? What determines how bad I have screwed up? What also determines how much I should dwell on my screw up? How much of my grief is healthy and to what length should I go to assuage the poignant feelings? The answers to most of these questions are probably tucked somewhere in the recesses of my mind but it’s conceivable that I have gotten comfortable with my grief to a point where I am not as eager to find these answers as I should.
Perhaps a theory is that somberness is hiding something. This is something I can work with. What could the somberness be hiding? My best bet is fear. Sadness is easier to cope with than fear. I could be afraid of the far-reaching consequences of my stupid decision. Or what the gloomy future entails. But how do I prove this theory?
In the end, we are all same; robots.