The Eternal Regret

The fullbodied woman, the mature man, observe the sparkles of youth and whisper, "oh, if I could be what I was, knowing what I know now!" To know what one knows is to be what one is. How else? The allure is of a safe location as perceived from an environment considered dangerous. The past is always safer because it can be manipulated at will. How one could know now and be then is a paradox, within the beliefs of "being" and time as we usually experience them. (of course, that too may be a grotesque parody of the possible).

Regret is an emotion proper to the dead; to embrace catastrophe with exhilaration is a work of art. Art is a rough way to earn survival in a world given to the unartistic; but as the man said when he climbed on the whale, "It's fine as long as you don't weaken."

Ride your leviathan, and do not weaken. You're bigger than it is.

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