Revelations of a Past

The gentleman is reflecting upon the past, considering the changes and the possibilities that come from it. It is clear that the gentleman is quite cynical.

It is often said that the past is the single existence which we cannot change. It is locked within our mind. It is trapped deep in the darkness of our conscious minds. We have no hope to escape it but we cannot change it. This is the fate of Life. Sometimes, I ask the question. What if we could? What if we could change the past and make it into something we desire, rather than regret. It is a question that I both fear and love. It is a question which troubles me. Should it? I don't know.

I would be selfish to change the past for my own benefit, would I not? I cannot help but wonder as to the ramifications. One change, one sudden movement and the present and the future has changed. For better or worse? For Death or Life? We cannot know. I believe it would be ignorant of me to ignore that which persists in the mind, the memories of the past which haunt me. Of course, is it ignorance or persistence? Is it need or want?

 

I believe it is a question of possibilities. What if I had done this? What if I had been there? I am often told; 'if things were different'. The word 'if' continues to persist in life. We cannot escape it. It is a burden which I loath. If...if...if. What does it even mean? It is a word with no purpose, is it not? If. If is discussing the past as though it were changeable. If is describing someone with ignorant hope. I see the word 'if' as though it were a 'get-out clause'. People use it too often.

 

If is nothing but probabilities and games of change. If often refers to the past. I do not like the past. It is a curse. It is a burden. There is no escape from it. I cannot change it. I cannot do anything but remember. How is it that something that is unchangeable can induce such emotion? The past is nothing but a pool of emotion, an ocean of sadness, if you will. There are but a few joyous memories. Most are dark, a torrent of depression.

 

I find it quite ironic that I often speak of emotion with little regard. I do not show emotion, or so I say. If someone were look to the past, they would see why. The past is nothing more than an inconvenience. What does the past do? Nothing. The past teaches us to learn from our mistakes? I laugh at the mere notion. How is that war, famine and disease exists if people learn from their mistakes?