You know those things you regret doing? The things that turn round and clout you slap-bang in the face; the ones that immediately sting.ΜύThat wake you up at 3am on a Wednesday morning and make you laugh, just so not to cry. The memories that, even in ten years time, you know you will still turn pink at and squirm upon remembrance; those. And don't even pretend you haven't, we've all done it; it's human. I know I've done my fair share. The embarrassing conversations, appalling actions, flinging fraught words at friends, that you really didn't mean and the removal of far too many clothes when perhaps not fully sober all easily win a ticket. And that's where hindsight arrives; deciding finally to bring the logic that magically disappeared, leaving you well and truly in the lurch just hours earlier, in tow. Always a day too late. And as if to add insult to injury reemphasises just what a complete t****r you've been. But who's to know that at the time, when you're out there on your own, on a limb? Being able to predict the future would be a sight less traumatic, but hey, we're not all Mystic Meg. And upon thought, perhaps in the grand scheme of things, the cringe-worthy, morning-after-stomach-sinking, eye-rolling, 'Why'd-I-Do-It' moments are worth it. What better way to learn that through sheer embarrassment? Only masochists and really, really silly people go back for a second slap round the face. Then you're left. Stranded on an unknown street, in an unknown city, and you might as well have 'T**T' printed in indelible marker upon your forehead for the reactions you get from passers by. But when you've finally done colliding with the oncoming traffic, finished diving for the ever decreasing gaps, stealing glances and treading on people toes, blurred in the colour of a million different faces and strange places, you always find your zebra crossing. Just when you need it, that black and white stripped band, in a halo of yellow glow, stomps its mark. A turning out of the perpetual stream bombarding; baffling. A chance for a new direction; or the way back home. And right about now, I'm on mine. Right out there in the middle. Where next? A new year, a new start? Or just different direction on the same street? Who's to know? I'm sure soon enough hindsight will be only to happy to help me out. |
