day 4

we, are, perhaps, not sorry for the things we do.
we, are, perhaps, sorry for the things we didn't do.
we, are, perhaps, a little apprehensive of the things we are going to do;
and a little jealous that others are more sorry than we are.
but, really, perhaps, we have never been sorry.
and perhaps, we have not done anything.
and we are merely little molecules flying around with nowhere to go.

we got to be kidding ourselves. but we're not sorry.
we're sorry that we're not sorry.
or perhaps, we don't even know what sorry means.
we don't believe in doing.
we do anyway.
we open doors to reveal another door to open.
there is a certain logic in there that is beyond my comprehension.
but no matter, we're not sorry that we don't understand.
we're not sorry that things are elusive. we are elusive.
we're not sorry that people stick themselves to other people.
adhesive people are not sorry that they're adhesive.
sorry people are so stupid that they're beyond sorry.
we're not sorry we are stupid.
we're not sorry to hear of people dying and murdering themselves because we'll follow them soon enough.
we're not sorry that we're such pests.
we're not sorry that we're such saints.
perhaps, we're too good, and humble, and meek that we learn nothing. (Chesterton)
perhaps, we doubt so much that everything falls into place and we are safe in the knowledge that we can doubt and be true about it.
perhaps, we are not sorry to know that we are virtuous. we know we have things to fall back on: virtues and morals. We know we can be forgiven. We don't have to be sorry.
Someone or something else will do the apologies. We just be ourselves. All too human.
The content of human life is made up of instances of us pardoning ourselves and compensating the lack of tangible repayment with lip services of apologies that fly away and never come back.
We are not sorry.

I'm sorry for writing this.