Where we examine an apology closely and with great intensity, all in the hopes that we learn from the mistakes we live through

Made an apology the other day. I thought it was quite mature, heartfelt and should have easily produce the desired results.

Now that the context has been provided, let us take a closer look at this apology shall we.

First, was it addressed correctly?

Yes. As tempting as it was, I did not begin with words such as “Hey” or “Whatsup” or something as generic as that. Instead, I opted for the deeply personal “nothing at all” pathway.

So you just launched right into it? How brave.

Uhh not really. So what I did was start with a conciliatory note, you know, like I know you have reason to be angry.

Ooo thats smart.

Well, I did not quite use those words exactly but the sentiment was quite obvious.

I am not so fucking sure boy. Did you use the word sorry anywhere?

No.

Let me guess, the sentiment was obvious?

Yes.

You are going to die alone.

Probably.

Are you sorry?

Yes.

Truly, really sorry?

Yes.

Then why the fuck did you not just write THAT you fucking moron?

The sentiment –

.

There is something wonderful about living through mistakes, and I mean living right through them. The full body experience so to speak. There is the usually braindead moment at the start, where you have absolutely no idea (or perhaps just this vague feeling in the belly which you attribute to that vada pav you may or may not have eaten in 10 seconds).

And then you step right into the mistake. Wallow in it. Feel the anger and the shame and wonder what it is about you that makes you act the way you do. Is it the genes (yes, of course) or the way your head is wired or something a bit more complex.

Actually, before this moment, there is also that moh maya type moment where you feel like you have done the right thing. No no, you know you have done the right thing and you pat yourself on the back, and eat another sub-10 second vada pav cause goddamit man you deserved this fried oily motherfucker.

Yeah, and then you step into the mistake.

Sometimes, if you are lucky, you never really get to this phase. You remain in the vada pav phase only. Stuffing your face forever and ever. Like that mermaid in that cartoon except what was the thing she liked eating? Grapes? Pasta?

Anyway. Yeah, so if you are lucky, then you will eventually become a fat mermaid.

If you are not.

Then you have to deal with phase 3 which is the second worst of them all. This is the realisation phase. Sadhus will tell you that self-realisation is beautiful – that is a load of fukin bull shit. Full on bull tatti only that is.

Self realisation is ugly, and uncomfortable – like bursting a hundred thousand whiteheads while making a guess appearance on a Louis CK standup special (no, I have not forgotten Louis, I am sad that he did what he did, and he should pay the price but I have not forgotten).

Anyway, phase 3 can last forever. It usually feels like that even if it doesn’t actually last that long (nothing lasts THAT long wink wink)

Perhaps, if you are lucky or wise or a little bit of neither, you stumble into phase 4 which is when you start wondering if you should say the S word. If there is some way that you can redeem yourself. Like one of those gift vouchers you get for your friends but those fuckers never end up using it. But that is okay cause the vouchers came for free with that double cheese vada pav you ordered from that uber cool food delivery start go fuck yourself up which has got a trillion dollar evaluation and has gamified the entire food tech delivery ecosphere pivoting motherfucking sequioa entrepreneur incubator influencing data AI and machine learnig synergizing collab.

Anyway.

I am sorry if I caused you hurt or anger or pain. That was not my intention, I was/am a foolish foolish fuck. If you think you can give me another chance, to share a few thoughts and perhaps even a few secrets, I would like that. A lot.

Toodles

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