I mentioned in an earlier post that I hate regrets. I have good reasons to hate regrets, one of them being that I have so many. Let’s face it: I f*cked up pretty good in my life. I want to blame it on society, on my parents, friends, frenemies, and outright enemies (which I don’t have). But I know that even if the sole responsibility doesn’t lie with me, I can blame no one but myself. For most of society, the way things are handled, it seems to work out pretty much Okay. People go to school, get a job, and retire. Somewhere in between they have a family, and they make their own mistakes and have their little regrets, but rarely do their lives derail because of it. Most of our modern civilization is boring, and that’s good.
So, why doesn’t it work for me?
I can’t think of a single significant factor in my life that would make it impossible for me to live a normal life. I can only try and explain it with my statistical eccentricity: I have less things in common with everyone else than those people do with each other. But there are other eccentrics who do just fine; they have found their niche. I am still floating in the limbo of uncertainty.
I wasn’t always this uncertain. Or, at least, I didn’t always feel this uncertain. From the age of 14 on, I was convinced that I would become a physicist. Everything I did in school was aimed toward that goal. I had a few side projects, which were important to me as well, like the fairer sex and becoming a good athlete, but becoming a physicist was the pillar that my future rested on. I excelled in every subject that was science-related. I was Okay, sometimes good, in other subjects, but I never had to put any effort into anything, except for the athletics. I smoked cigarettes, drank alcohol and socialized like any other teenager.
Are you familiar with this situation: You wanted to get up early in order to prepare for a big trip, but your alarm clock never went off and you woke up 3 hours late. You know you won’t make the train because you don’t have enough time to pack even your essentials, and the entire schedule you had mapped out for yourself is worthless. Now, imagine you slept in on your life, and you are just now waking up, realizing that you can’t acquire the necessary skills and discipline in time because your biological clock is endlessly ticking – yes, men have that problem, too. You’re standing at the platform where the train to your life just left without you. Why did you sleep in? Because you never stopped to think that something might go wrong. That’s what I regret. I never made any contingencies. I didn’t think in advance.
Well, that’s no reason to end the journey, you just need to go hitchhiking instead. I’ve been hitchhiking for eight years now, ever since everything became unhinged. That’s a story for a different post.