bel

We've all had people come and go in our lives. Some of them go, and they never come back. We watch their ships sink into the horizon. However, some of them do. And when they do, it's like having a conversation with a person you thought dead. Who the fuck are you. What have you been doing. I don't know you anymore. Please. Don't you dare talk to me, lest I contract some sort of virulent disease from wherever the hell you came from.

I hate moral righteousness. It takes two. It always does. Nobody ever has the fucking moral high ground.

But then again. It's usually my own fault for letting everything fall apart. Usually. Even when I spill a 1.5l bottle of Sprite on the countertop, I watch the stream of fizzy liquid meander its way across the tabletop for at least 5 seconds before grabbing a towel to mop it up. I'll always watch the explosion before I start screaming.


"Thank God life ends - we'd never survive it."