The unbearable lightness of being

So I’ve been disturbedly thinking about this book I have just read.


It featured Tereza on the last part thinking about how life might have been had she done things differently.

I have always been scared of also coming to a point like that. I abhor having regrets over things ultimately.

But can you really help it?

I mean, what if that person you had so recklessly cast off your life was in fact meant to complete it?

And now there’s no way you are to get him or her back because, you know, you did not, for the life of you, really mean it, but yeah life happened.

It’s awful, right?

I dunno, it gives me bad a headache just thinking about it. Haha.

I guess I’m just like this every time I finish a book. I go on a self-marinate mode, and it’s such a curious thing.

So what did it teach me, you say? I say it has left me pondering about a lot of things I had done in my life, and wondering if I could have done or if I could still do any better.

I guess Milan Kundera was right when he said that life is only lived once, and all that you can make of it is all that is, and will ever be, there to it.

Es muss sein, the Germans call it.

And gods, how can I not be terribly disturbed? 😐