My life’s about as exciting as a brick, but once in a while, when i least expect it (and generaly fueled by alcohol) i fuck up so badly that it overcompensates my usual boredom. So, when i’m left alone with my thoughts, these fuck ups tend to haunt the shit out of me, to the point where i start wondering how much of a fuck up it really was. You know, when you go from wishing things would have never happend to start wishing it would have just turned out a little bit diferent? It gets even worse when you honestly ask yourself if you’d do it again, and the answer comes back a “yes!”.
I mean, it kinda freaks me out that my judgement would just change like that, or maybe it never did and i feel strangely and yet unacceptably fine with things i myself consider “wrong”. How fucked up is that!?