#ididnotplanthis

I sat for a moment and asked myself "what do you regret?". What came back was a vast array of overpowering and overwhelming feelings. I thought I had forgotten or at least that I would, yet somehow the episodes had lingered and gathered dust in that part of the mind/heart, which is neglected the most. That cupboard you have been meaning to clear out and never got round to because you feared the contents. I was standing before it door ajar. This is not what I had planned to do tonight. 

Hurried retreat followed, a surrender flag ever at the ready. But the question clung to the air like the aftermath of a firework  reverberating in my ears and clouding all that surrounded me. 

The question is too large and the time frame so vast. I have been accountable for almost 2 decades. Almost as long as Mandelas' imprisonment. I have knowledge of old and new within that time. The new overpowers the old but the old is not so weak. The old is what forged the being today and the new continues to hone it brutally.

The regret that dominates however, is how I was perceived by puerile minds. Do they recall enough to know I cared. Was it made clear to them? I'm afraid it may not have been. Afraid if it was it will not remain so for long. Brutal honing continues.