🔵 By Thomas Riffenburg. Photo by lauragrafie.
Life has been hard to me, so I always try to be hard back, yet there are times when the sadness within is displayed in my eyes. People say criminals have no remorse, and I wonder where they gather this information from. I have about as much remorse as I have anger, and anger is my most intimate companion. I don’t have remorse where most expect me to, in my violence or hatred, yet to one’s surprise, I am remorseful to be the man I am. In a perfect world violence and hatred would have no place, certainly not in my soul, and such a fantasy of such a place does my mind constantly dwell upon. To be able to lie life in a constant smile, divorcing anger and wedding happiness; isn’t it the dream of every man? Just a brief moment of contemplation on such a thing is enough to provoke me towards a clash of two emotions, happiness at the peace of it, sadness at the knowing it is never to be. Do I have remorse? Yes, everyday, for the longing of my soul never ceases to dream of it.
Does this mean one should pity and have compassion for me? Certainly not, for the path of daggers I have freely chosen to walk, and its sufferings I bear acceptingly. No, the pity should be for those in the world who suffer as a result of men being lovers of money and materials, rather than love of community and people. And your sympathy, well, I know not whom you should give that to, only your convictions on life can do such a thing. I hope, whoever you are, lief has not blinded you to what matters most, for remorse, while it can be great in the minds of men, within the hearts of men it hurts, everyday it hurts.