Sorry Miss Chisman

No regrets?

Writing whilst drunk can be a curse. Often upon a second reading, clear of the fog of red wine, memories of writing something with brilliant clarity can on reflection, seem like mindless dross, or worse a self righteous or self pitying mess. aka.... Imagine if Cat was spelt D O G.... whoa....
Catching up with NFG the other day, she happened to mention she has a few of my poems that should be published. Fonmeister has threatened to do the same thing - maybe I should get all my poetry together, under some publishing guise, only to quickly burn the lot when no one was looking. It's fair to say once written, I often forget what I've put down on paper. Most is related to a specific event - like a flatmate who always left pasta in a pot - or another flatmate who kept us awake all night typing on a manual typewriter. I might ask NFG to see what she has been saving - but potentially I could die of embarrassment. If you were to show me the stuff I wrote years later I would most likely not recognise it - or even the person who wrote it. Anyway - what follows is something small I wrote after a couple of bottles of red some time ago. Much like driving, you really shouldn't drink and write;

When the mood takes you, writing can be a breeze, but where that writing takes you may often be an uncomfortable place.
They say you shouldn't have regrets, either from action or inaction. They also say you should move on - not wallow in past of regrets - just learn, and move on.

I wonder if bad memories of the past are are ghosts you should exorcise, own up to...
By admitting your regrets, you could eventually forgive yourself
Alternatively, perhaps these regrets are something we should accept as making us who we are, and live with it.
Should we forgive ourselves?
Do we have that right?

For today I'll freely admit to fucking up, potentially causing others grief. There are times I would love to go back and undo some things, but what's done is done, and more importantly - if i hadn't made those mistakes I wouldn't be where I am now - physically and emotionally.

So to anyone I've hurt, I'm sorry. My regrets are a daily reminder of the burden I'd like to let go of - I'm just certain how to yet. Perhaps in some way this is a first step.