Regrets
I have so many regrets. You know those people who say, “I regret nothing, I have no regrets, why regret?” Those people piss me off. Bunch of liars or deniers. Or maybe they’re just those non-self-reflective types who plow through life like the proverbial bull in the china shop, knocking everything down then clearing out the store before the police show. I’m not one of those people. I regret everything. More than anything, I regret all the shit I haven’t done. I never learned to speak a second language. I studied Latin in school and there’s no one I can speak it to on account of it being a dead language and all. I tried to study French in college but I quit on it. Which I regret. I never learned to surf. Or box. Or snowboard. Or work an Avid. Or use Final Cut. I never wrote a novel in my twenties like I should have. I wrote screenplays instead, and none of those ever got made, so it ended up being a waste. I regret leaving New York to become an actor in Hollywood. I think the sum total of all the television work I did was shit, and I would have been better off had I stuck with stage work in New York. I was much better on stage than I ever was on film or television. So that’s another regret. I regret that I never became a better swimmer. I’m actually doing something about that one now. I started swimming laps at the gym today. I did three before I was out of breath. There was a midget in the next lane who was lapping me. This little midget could swim. She was chopping up the water and making waves while I was struggling not to drown. I regret that I quit wrestling when I did. I was a pretty good wrestler and maybe I could have been great had I not quit. But I committed to acting instead and that ended up being something I regret. I regret that I didn’t take a Wall Street job out of college. I could have worn a suit for three years and learned a few things. I could have made friends with some people with money. I could have paid off my loans. Instead I went to Hollywood and started smoking heroin, which I regret. That didn’t do shit for me. Just wasted time. I regret that I didn’t seek therapy for all those years that I was afraid to try something new. I regret I didn’t stick with writing that blog I used to write. If I had kept to a short story a month I’d have books full of short stories by now. But I didn’t, so now I just have a stack of screenplays, most of which I regret ever having written. I regret a few parts I turned down as an actor that could have provided me with easy money that I could have used to do something else, like finance one of those screenplays I wrote. I regret that I didn’t start my own tutoring business instead of working for Princeton Review all these damn years for a shitty wage and no benefits. I regret that I haven’t travelled more or seen more of the world or tried more things or tackled more fears. I never had the money or the time. I regret every relationship I didn’t commit to, even the ones that were destined to fail, as all of them were. No matter. I regret them anyway. I regret all the parties I didn’t show up to, and all the ones I did. The ones I didn’t show up to were awesome. The ones I attended were dead. I regret I stopped hanging out with that girl who gave me the great blowjobs and never asked anything in return. What was I thinking? I started feeling guilty, I guess, but she didn’t care. And I ain’t had a blowjob that good since.
I started writing this post because I was afraid if I didn’t, I’d regret it. Now, I’m going to publish it and probably regret that too.