Post by theundergrad on Jan 27, 2007 1:11:22 GMT -5
Regret is a mild torture which grows inside the poor, haphazard victim. It bellows out its secret truth from the wretch's heart, only to be heard by the inner mind of the cursed individual. Each footstep taken by that lonley man plauged with regret is a fearful attempt at escape, however he only runs toward the fate which he has made. Drowning is a fate similar to the one experianced by the regretful man. At legnth, the only end comes from accepting the unchangeable, and the dorwning man fills his lungs with the fatal liquid. My heart, the apple; regret, the worm.
Nor did it stop there, for there were plenty of regretful actions to follow, but certainly none could match the immoral magnitute of that first treachery. Anxiety than begins to settle in and make a home in the bosom of the regretting person. He wonders if his guilt shows on his face, and he smites himself for ruining a promising future. But eventually he looks about the orange room of afternoon light, and throws the covers off of himself. "No more!" he swears to himself, and with a new found confidence goes to the sink, to clean up and prepare for his new life.
"I will dedicate myself to study." Promises the new man."And when the time comes, I will face my friends with a new and stronger heart and I will bear the responsibility for my actions. Then, with the past behind us and the future ahead, we will return to those pleasent relationships that we used to be a part of." This being said the bold man exists his home and works steadily at his books and his chores. This sort of cheer is maintained for a number of days untill at night, that worm of regret burrows itself into the brain of the suffering patient. Memories are dug up and dreams of the past come to haunt the slumber that was, up till now, so peaceful and silent.
But still, I was able to escape myself and plunge into the deep waters of thought and philosophies. It was not out of responsibility that I did this, it was out of horror and terror for what I was becoming. Left alone, I would become afraid of myself. In the middle of a crowded bus I would fight the tears that lingered behind me eyes. Is that madness which I tasted on my lips?
Nor did it stop there, for there were plenty of regretful actions to follow, but certainly none could match the immoral magnitute of that first treachery. Anxiety than begins to settle in and make a home in the bosom of the regretting person. He wonders if his guilt shows on his face, and he smites himself for ruining a promising future. But eventually he looks about the orange room of afternoon light, and throws the covers off of himself. "No more!" he swears to himself, and with a new found confidence goes to the sink, to clean up and prepare for his new life.
"I will dedicate myself to study." Promises the new man."And when the time comes, I will face my friends with a new and stronger heart and I will bear the responsibility for my actions. Then, with the past behind us and the future ahead, we will return to those pleasent relationships that we used to be a part of." This being said the bold man exists his home and works steadily at his books and his chores. This sort of cheer is maintained for a number of days untill at night, that worm of regret burrows itself into the brain of the suffering patient. Memories are dug up and dreams of the past come to haunt the slumber that was, up till now, so peaceful and silent.
But still, I was able to escape myself and plunge into the deep waters of thought and philosophies. It was not out of responsibility that I did this, it was out of horror and terror for what I was becoming. Left alone, I would become afraid of myself. In the middle of a crowded bus I would fight the tears that lingered behind me eyes. Is that madness which I tasted on my lips?