This is going to be a rambling throwaway post because I’m tired and don’t have the energy for anything else. I still have to get my words in, though, so feel free to skip today’s post.
I found out today that, in general, being upset makes me tired. I got a solid amount of sleep today, and even relaxed for a good portion of it. I was pretty rested. But then something happened and it’s sort of consumed my thoughts for the rest of the day, and I didn’t like it.
Being in your early twenties means learning about yourself and what you like and where you fit in the world. As such, I’ve adopted a sort of laissez faire attitude as far as the things I do. Sometimes I’ll do things I’m apprehensive about because even if I know I won’t like it, I still might learn something about the world or myself out of that experience.
Today I seriously considered doing something that would require an apology, merely because I wanted to do it first. And I had to ask myself if I could honestly apologize even after having that thought. If you know something is wrong, and it doesn’t stop you from actively thinking about it, or even doing that thing, how do you not conclude that you’re a bad person? What does that say about your character if you think about the possible repercussions and it doesn’t dissuade you?
Obviously, life is about making mistakes. But when you’re a child, you don’t know any better. When things go bad you are told so, and after a slap on the wrist you go about your business.
I can only imagine what life was like back when the Church wrote out Indulgences. I thought it ridiculous that people would go to their place of worship to buy forgiveness for sins that they hadn’t committed yet. Sins they fully intended to commit. How genuine can the apology be if it was prepared before the crime happened?
Do I think I’m a bad person? No. But it brings me no peace to know that I’m more than capable of wrongdoing. Not just in the “lie by omission” or “not doing good enough” sort of way, but in an actual “This was bad and you should have known better” sort of way. Did know better, in fact.
Part of me knows that, really, this probably shouldn’t be public. That’s half the reason why I’m being vague. Obviously, I have to publish something, and I’m writing this, so why not? But I also want to put this as sort of a time stamp. I want this blog to serve as something of a chronicle as my journey as a writer, and that means putting in some personal stuff. I doubt that I’ll be able to identify what event I’m referring to a year from now, because in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that big. (No, I did not murder anyone. At least, not today.)
I’m not looking for a shoulder to cry on, or moral support, or anything. I just needed my five hundred words, and hey, here we are.
Expect a solid flash fiction piece Friday!