I wasn't that sold on Midsommar as a horror movie so much as the most faithful on-screen depiction I've encountered of the experience of taking a nice amount of acid/shrooms, and then far too much ketamine, at a summer music festival.
I lament most of the things I've ever not done (that old cliche), but I've been thinking more about my decisions (which weren't really decisions) post university.
Principally not moving to London when all my friends lived there because of my weird resentment of London (4 pounds for a pint?!)...
I actually have done this, somewhat consciously in the past — not gone to a party or whatever cos I'm scared, and been aware that as compensation I'd be able to writhe in exquisite misery over me not going...
Once or twice I've been genuinely happy, with no shadow falling across me, and that's felt odd, makes me unnerved, anxious to regain some perspective by getting depressed about something.
"Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
As it happens, I just read this in Stanislaus Joyce's "My Brother's Keeper":
"I have seen a dozen or so cuttings from Cork daily papers containing flattering notices of Mr. Joyce's performances in various comic parts. Out of...
What would you do differently?
Lately I've been thinking that I've essentially been making huge mistakes both personally and professionally since circa 2003. (Often the mistake has been not to make a mistake by actually doing something. I've sat on the pot, not shitting.)