Maybe I’m weird. I like my scars. I didn’t ask for any of them. Or I unconsciously asked for all of them.

Sometimes the universe makes a mark on you; what you do with that is up to you.

I got a little bold with dear Earth recently and she smacked me pretty hard. I knew what I was doing, knew the risks, and did it anyway. It’s maturing into a decently large scar, and I’m pleased. It’s a nice memory, that kiss.

Maybe I’m weird. Regret minimization, which most people seem to follow as a life strategy, is too boring for me. I always thought I’d die young but after luckily surviving some really stupid decisions in my youth, I’ve gotten much better at measuring risk.

It's a kind of survivor bias. Deadly scars never get such good personal feelings attached to them for obvious reasons. So the scars you have make you feel lucky.

When you injure yourself and get a lovely bruise, it can be a good story.

When you don’t remember how you got a bruise, it’s a bit odd, but it happens.

When you injure yourself and it hurts a lot and the bruise is barely even noticeable, that’s the worst. You earned a nice colourful bruise!

Ironically, it's the things I didn't do that bring me the most regret. The times when I didn't stand up for something or someone, and took the safe route. Those times I have some regret for.

Breaking an arm, scars, etc- They are unpleasant at the time, but zero long term regret. They are like squares on a quilt that tell a story.