YOLO

This is the storm before the lull. A game of rugby in my head, where the players are obsessive, negative thoughts that surround the ball: a metaphor for the ray of hope, so to speak. It's a violent match. They won't let me make peace with myself. They carve a way for me, where i'm bullied into making the same mistakes, thinking the same thoughts and having the same conversations in my head. Again and again.

There's no room for whys. There's no room for WTFs.

It's a bloody fight. On one side, there's me, and on the other side there's Me. Both are fucking toughnuts, I must say.

I wonder if 'I' will make it out alive.

The wretched tick on facebook chat had sealed my destiny. He'd seen my digital decision to stand my ground, and he accepted. It felt wrong. It felt wrong to be right, and do the right thing. It felt wrong that someone would understand my point of view and not contest it.

Where were the layers? I'm easily fooled - everyone knows that. If I want to believe something, all you have to do is breathe and I'll give in. We never speak of strength, willpower and dedication when it comes to me. So yesterday when I practiced strength and willpower, I felt even more miserable than doing the wrong thing and facing friends who would have "I told you so" plastered all over their faces. (They'd never say it out loud.)

In which warped universe does it feel better to do the wrong thing? To revel in the sense of drama, to bury your flag in the grey area of everything that is meant to reflect stability in your life, to rub your nose in confusion, fluctuation - familiar territory for me. Is this something my generation is unanimously going through - or is it just me?

I did not feel triumphant after waking up this morning, I wasn't able to restore faith in my ability to be normal, I can't decide if this is the beginning of being an adult. I'd much rather walk the walk of shame, than walk the walk of glory, to be honest. I think it builds character. There must be something severely wrong with me.