regret me not.

i have a terrible subconscious habit of forcing myself back to sleep when in the midst of an involved nightmare... to finish it, out of masochistic intrigue, to gain closure... i'm not quite sure why. our dreams definitely reflect our waking life.

i once, very firmly, did not believe in regret.

a single entity has stripped me of that higher thinking intermittently for years. it's insane what love, and eventually addiction, will make you forget.

free as i am now, i refuse to regret a single thing, for in what ever moment i know i was being driven by nothing but my will for good: a good life for myself and those i care for. giving without receiving, and then being tormented by the recepient makes one waver in their conviction, but i know in all solidarity that one should never give something away and expect it back. and even though that care may have been misplaced or misjudged, it was real at the time, and that's all that really matters.

there is no more debt, no more dwelling.

"goodbye my hopeless dream."


  1. who are you even talking about?

  2. made me think of edith piaf's song "rien de rien". Listen to it, especially since your off to france soon ;)