2.0 About Regret Space
Got Your Resonant Pairing from 1.5? You're Ready Unfuck From The Most Fatal Of The Five Stages
We Build Monuments
In every generation, we build monuments.
And we tear them down,
When the answers must be answered for.
The landscape is littered with our monuments.
Our mindscapes even more so.
Because if Public Space is where we find the sacred answer,
Regret Space is where we ask the secret question.
Mostly about the past.
Mostly why.
About things that used to be.
Things that almost were.
A past with a perfect future.
Prime Real Estate
Public Space is at the same time one of the most restrictive and one of the least regulated land uses. You see it everywhere— parks, cemeteries, monuments, memorials, historic sites, battlefields, trails— occupying prized urban locations, sprawling across breathtaking vistas.
Typically a name is attached—of someone we are supposed to remember, of someone we wish were still here.
If they could just see us now, and what we’ve become.
We know they’d be proud. Or offer comfort. Or guidance. And so we go to our Public Spaces to commune with something from the past, something we’ve lost, something we are trying to recapture, or get back to.
Recreation, they call it. We are trying to re-create ourselves.
And the monuments we build to all of that are incredible, because by its definition Public Space is for all of us, and few zoning rules prevent our imaginations from running wild:
Sending us home from our weekends with tall tales of adventures in Public Space— what we saw, what we did, who we hung out with, who was playing, who won… All about how we re-connected with who we really are and how we think of ourselves when we’re not at work, school, etc.
Known But To You
But there is an equally expansive and even gaudier space— occupying prime real estate in our heads, sprawling across huge swaths of thought. That space also has a name attached— typically of someone we can never forget, and we pray desperately will not forget us.
Typically a name we cannot say in our homes, at work, among friends, lovers, spouses or relatives. Because that conversation is done.
Even to mention it in passing is to deny what everyone agrees is done, and to voice something which—after all these years— could be symptomatic of an obsession, maybe worse. Likely something requiring therapy and/or medication and/or monitoring to interdict potential acts of inappropriate behavior, even violence.
Because it’s just easier to let friends, lovers, spouses, colleagues, teammates etc. disown you. To shrug before the cameras and say, “He was a quiet, gentle person. Never really talked much about himself. Didn’t know he was having a problem.”
Regret Space
And so we go into Regret Space, a cerebral cityscape of monuments, memorials, re-enactments, and reunions that are awesome and awful, terrific and terrifying, genius and deranged— all at the same time.
Because the first— and only— rule of Regret Space is like the first rule of Fight Club:
Don’t talk about it
Externalizing your Regret Space is almost always instantly fatal—you literally disappear from the face of the earth.
It’s a pattern as old as Moses, that repeats itself through history—in the lives and deaths of visionaries who believed that the monuments in their minds could become real.
And enters the American psyche in 1925 through a book many have called our national scripture—The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald.
An American Epic
One of the elements that makes The Great Gatsby pivotal is its fulfillment of the need for an American epic, an origins story of a warrior class returned from costly victory abroad only to find that the real cost has been the country— and the girl— of their dreams.
He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was…
The Gatsby addresses a gap which, up to this point in history, American men had been too busy nation-building to consider—irrecoverable loss, and what to do about it.
It’s the story of how one man externalizes his Regret Space— by trying to live one day over— and disappears from the face of the earth. And how another man—his one true friend and biographer— is inspired by his disastrous example simply to disappear.
Because Regret Space, for all its promises of endless sex, booze and riches, is in the end nothing more than a crowded cemetery in a desert. A graveyard from which too many men can find no escape, and are doomed to end their days.
Exit Strategies
It’s easy to let the amusement park sprawl and Disney-like quality of your Regret Space convince you that you’re trapped forever. But escape is doable. And has been done. And if you’ve found your Resonant Pairing per Retreat Space 1.5-Barnyard to Harvard Yard, the odds of unfucking from your Regret Space are very good.
You are one in a thousand, a million, maybe even a billion who can do this.
So buck up and listen up to the still, small voice.
There are two known exit strategies from your Regret Space, one risky and quick, the other painful and slow:
Hijack your way out— not what you’re thinking.
Tear down your monuments—exactly what you’re thinking.
You are not limited to one or the other— you can do both. In both cases you will disappear from your Regret Space—not from the face of the earth— as long as you don’t externalize.
Let the pent-up pressure of your Regret Space externalize you.
First and foremost by not talking about it. Zip the lips.
Like Fight Club.
Because the best escapes from this Alcatraz are those which nobody finds out about —until years after you are gone.
So we’ll take a look at examples of success and failure. And what you can safely take with you.
Unlike Retreat Space, you do not have to leave empty-handed.
Things are already looking up. Let’s do it.
If you want to be unforgettable, give them nothing to remember you by. If you want to become immortal, leave no monuments behind. --Ginevra de' Benci (1457-1520)
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Harvey Oxenhorn, is a cybersecurity consultant, author of The Five Stages of Unf*ck, Red Pill Journey to January 2.0. for the millions of men mangled by years of unchecked and unquestioned feminism, globalism, and Woke. He is also founder of Malwords Weekly, and author of the upcoming book, The Atrocity Algorithm, How The Media Became The Enemy of The People. Follow him on Twitter, Gettr, Gab, and MeWe @HarveyOxenhorn