Mercy Plea

Gosh, how easy is it to disappear? Three-hundred and eighty days* of pure, unadulterated silence smashed by the fervent clicking of keys. I suppose I had a whole year of nothing excitable to share other than the wild debacle of my life falling apart around me and really, who wants to read about that any more? It's all very routine isn't it? I feel this mercurial blog post is already becoming strangely akin to something I wrote all those months ago.

But this is what we do when we require a spark isn't it? I can't say I've changed. I'm still chomping furiously as the sides of my wannabe-moustache. I'm still smoking myself into some kind of oblivion with reckless abandon. I still drink tea (this is always important). Everything around me hasn't exactly manifested itself into what I expected either, so I guess you could say nothing's really changed. This does make me sound rather bitter though and I can promise you I'm far from. It's only those classified mistakes that duly wind up as regrets that really eat away at my public need to do something for the better i.e. consider change.

And I've had a lot of those mistakes. An autumn full of them. We should carefully consider them a cruel learning curve - that sometimes you will end up hurting people had displayed such potential to be a huge part of your future. I don't know how or why I do it. I never used to be this way. Driven by lust and greed? That would make wondrous sense. I try not to dwell on something like this though, as poignant as it would be to remind everybody how disgustingly beautiful forgiveness is I'm, sadly, going to break your hearts and decline that inviting route. It's dark and dreary and I don't have a torch.

Life being the congenially linear thing that it is has made something abundantly clear to me and it's so simple: you cannot change the past. Some might say that it's easier said than done but it's impossible to avoid the truth of the matter: what's done is done. No thoughts, no words, no actions can change what has happened, you can only serve to contribute to picking up the pieces afterwards. What you do with those fragments is entirely up to you but rest assured you will never be able to put that vase back together with the same intricacy with which it was first produced. Such purity cannot be replicated.

Sometimes you're better off just buying a new vase. And some new flowers too.

*This is a stab in the dark, I have little interest in working out the exact time scale. You'll get over it.