A touch of self pity

This blog is for three people:
(1) My old friend Paul B, who reads it sometimes.
(2) Nick
(3) My future self

It seems to me that I've lost more than thirty years of my life. I want to somehow hold onto what remains. The last 20 years, which should have been the best, were largely wasted because I didn't know what to do with them.

So many things I should have done, and so many I should have avoided. I had the chance to see other countries, but didn't because I was afraid. I should have encouraged the good relationships, and ditched the bad ones, but I didn't try because it seemed beyond my control. I should have tried harder at learning languages, reading books, and making music, instead of playing computer games, pretending to study at university, and watching worthless television.

I want my teens and twenties back, because I know now what I should have done with them.

I used to keep philosophical notebooks, so I wouldn't forget my ideas. Now that the flood of new (and usually stupid) ideas that came from my mind has slowed to a trickle, I don't want to forget my life. What remains of it.

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