If I could do it all over again

It’s my little godson, Kaidyn’s 9th birthday today. His parents got him a 3D swimming pool. Huh? That’s a thing? I got him some Spiderman LEGOs and a Spiderman smartwatch. The future. Shit sure has changed since I turned nine. By the time I was eight I was already smoking weed. Instead of a 3D swimming pool and a smartwatch, I got a punch in the mouth. I remember my birthday’s stopped being important and cool around that age cause virtually every single one since, has sucked dick. Maybe 2 or 3 decent birthdays over the last 32 years, the rest were rough. I enjoy the company of my little godson. He’s quite the character, having a magnificent imagination, telling detailed background stories for all of his LEGO people. He is generally well behaved, especially compared to me as a child and probably compared to his parents as well. I think he’s gonna be fine. I think he’s growing into someone his parents and I will be proud of and it appears his road won’t be as bumpy as was that of mine or his dad’s. It makes you wonder. Had one thing just gone a little bit different, I could of led a completely different life, could be a completely different person. Had I zigged when I should of zagged, had I just listened to what I was told, would I not have suffered in the ways that I have? Probably. Almost definitely. But given the chance, armed with the knowledge I have now, would I go back and do it over again? Not a chance. Number 1; maybe shit is different, but maybe it’s not different better, maybe it’s different worse. Shit can always get worse. Number 2; if I go back and do things differently, then I’m most likely nothing like I am today, I’m probably a completely different person. Yeah fuck that. Regardless of what you think about me, or what they think about me, I personally think I’m rad. I’ve spent 41 years making myself the best version of myself that I can possibly be, whether you agree with that or not and so going back and doing it all over again would make all of this have been for not. All the blood, the pain, the tears, the scars, they would all mean nothing. And number 3; you couldn’t pay me enough to go back and be a kid again. For me, being a kid was being helpless, it was being small and insignificant. It felt powerless and insecure. Shaky and unsure. I hated being a kid. I was so angry. I felt so alone. I was scared and unsure of myself and my capabilities. That’s why I started doing drugs, because they filled all my gaps. Powerless? Not anymore. Scared? Of what you’re invincible. Alone and insecure? Yup it will fix that too. If I was to restart, then yes, I would have the opportunity to remove things, flaws, from my past and yes I could of zagged instead of zigged and quite possibly I’d be the president or a banker or some shit. Maybe I’d have the family I’ve always craved, maybe I’d be a spectacular husband to my beautiful wife and an excellent father to our perfect children. Or maybe I would of caught cancer at 18 like my friend Kenny did and been dead before exiting my teens. There’s endless what if’s, infinite should of’s and could of’s, hindsight is 20/20. Given the chance to go back I wouldn’t go. I’ve been waiting for the flash ever since the rip. I don’t fear death. I fear life.