Is there anything as tragic as the tremor of regret? I seem to see it everywhere these days… Its a pervasive little infliction, its a twitch mid-laughter or a shiver mid-song, where someone is reminded of the real world, of words they shouldn’t have said, of things they shouldn’t have felt, of mistakes that weren’t worth making… That shake is more than movement, its a scream, its a proclamation that happiness is so often fleeting. Is there anything as tragic as realising that no one can ever be truly happy without remembering that a small part of them is inconsolable inside?

#166- excerpts from the book I’ll never write