Sometimes we regret - decisions that were meant to happen. Uncontrollable, done not by the "I", but carried out by the modern conception of the self - the "I" as the mask that performs and bears the consequences. We wish to rewind the tape, restart what's already past, approaching every instant different from reality. Aware of the impossibility, we dive deeper into what can be relived: Memories. We drown in moments of significance, always at your side to remind us of our misdoing. We wish we could have embraced more, decided differently, hoping for "life" or "something" to hear our call of grief and desire, but nothing. As what should have happened already happened. You can't control it. You were never able to and will never be able to. You are being moved by force. The direction determined not by your conscious but an element outside of your reach. You wish for a last dance but like a tumbleweed you'll eventually dance by yourself.