Thursday, November 29, 2012

Fucking Up.

What is it about fucking up that makes it so easy? We all do it almost out of habit. At one moment, we have all that we thought we wanted. Even if it isn't, it's satisfactory. It gives us happiness.
And then what do we do? We go ahead and fuck it up. We fuck it up really bad.
Of course, we always want everything we do in life should be just like in the movies. Only there aren't any retakes in real life just like in the movies. You can't undo in life, man! And what a tragedy that is. So we go ahead and fall in love. Real love at that. You can tell it's true. There is such little truth in the world that you know one when you see one.
And then what do we do? We go ahead and fuck it up. We fuck it up really bad.
We hurt the people important to us. We feel stupid and lost and oh so sorry. We can barely justify it. We have this recurring pain in the general heart area. We realize that you don't die of a heartbreak, you just wish you did. We put everything we love on stake for what, one may wonder. For the sake of pleasure? Happiness? Thrill?
I think we do it because we are basically horrible people.
We go ahead and fuck it up. We fuck it up really bad.
Horrible people tend to fuck up more than the rest.

This Is Where You and I Meet.

Change is a constant. And so is sorrow.

This is me.
Same blog, different url.
I missed you, oh anonymity.