On time travel

I wish to time travel and tell myself a few things. I wish to reverse the mistakes that taught me nothing, or better yet, the things I didn’t want to know. Not everything in life is a lesson, and not every lesson comes with a wag of the finger and a pat on the back. Some lessons are a slap in the face…so hard they leave a mark for you to remember how much of an asshole you were, how little you cared, how selfish you can become.

The worst mistakes are those you can’t atone for, the ones that lacked consequence but left a permanent scar on your soul. Those are the ones you should fear. Those are the ones that will haunt you. Those are the ones neither actions nor words can eradicate.

I could live without them, just as I’ve learned to live with them and carry them on my shoulders as they play with my hair and whisper in my ear. My little demons.

I can imagine myself going back and telling myself ‘you’re about to do this…please don’t,’ and watch the old, almost selfish, me say in astonishment: ‘Am I really capable of this?’ So it’s not ignorance I require, nor forgiveness. I would like the knowledge and acknowledgment of my stupidity but without the action itself. So that I can only hurt myself, and not another. 

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