Call It Off

Maybe I would've been something you'd be good at.

- Tegan & Sara

T2M #4

1122– 235PM
You aren't the kind of guy who asks for help when he needs it the most.

You know it; everyone knows it.

You're in your own words a "true friend" because you rise to action when a call of duty is sounded.

You make yourself available, you offer your help, you don't stop until the job is done.

That's the kind of person you are, and you have to trust that they know it.

However, they have something you don't: the ability to ask for help when they need it.

How can you fault them for not coming to your side when you don't even let it be known that you need them there?

You cannot be angry at anyone in this situation, not even at yourself, as much as you are looking for someone to blame, a scapegoat to target.

It's not your fault you find it difficult to speak your wants and needs from other people because it has been what you were taught.

The only thing left in this situation is re-learning that it's okay to ask for help when you need it.

By accepting the fact that you cannot be in control of everything, you will make it easier to be able to express your needs.

Just trust that they'll be there to help you fill them.

- - -

A quote comes to mind that sums all that up perfectly.

Please swallow your pride
If I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs
That you don't let show

If there is a load you have to bear
That you can't carry
I'm right up the road
I'll share your load
If you just call me
-- Bill Withers / Lean on Me

Amen to that. Thank you, Glee.

 

 

just for memory's sake: #3.
1001 – 508PM
Get over yourself.

This is not  about you. This has nothing to do with you.

Your role here is strictly to be his support, not to be noticed or have everyone bask in your glory.

Let him have his turn; lord only knows he deserves it.

And most importantly he deserves to have you push your own ego aside and just be the best friend he needs right now.

To Judge A Book By Its Cover

My favorite book cover of all time:

 Forever: A Novel by Pete Hamill

The story was interesting enough (it's the "inspiration*" behind FOX's cancelled [quelle surprise] show New Amsterdam), but it was the cover more than the jacket synopsis that compelled me to buy this book.

 

 

* unofficially. you be the judge.

Words of Wisdom

"Get ready, then," she says, slightly annoyed. "I'm already late."

He runs to his room and throws on his peacoat and cashmere scarf, two of the most prized possessions in his wardrobe, over the gray sweater and jeans he's already wearing.

He shoves his boots over his feet, already adorned with white athletic socks which he knows is both A) unfashionable, and B) unpractical for the walk back home, but he's in a rush—no time to waste tying frivolous laces while she waits for him in the car.

He hears her honking and runs out of the room, stopping only to turn first the television set off, then the cable box. No point in wasting more money on electricity that doesn't even go to good use.

He fumbles with his house key as he tries to lock the door. The cold air comes as a shock to him—a foreshadow of what to expect on his walk of shame back home.

He pats his coat to reassure himself that he brought a lighter with him. He didn't. Luckily he had left a matchbook in the small interior pocket beforehand for situations such as this.

He gets in the car and they pull out of the driveway.

"Where are you going?" he asks her idly, just to make conversation as they make a quick trip to the liquor store down the block.

"Dave & Busters," she replies. He stays quiet, trying to bite back the bad experience he had there a few years ago. No need to share an upsetting story with someone eager to get the night started.

They make it to the gas station faster than he expected.

She hands him a twenty. As he takes it from her, a bit of guilt consumes him.

"Camel Crushes?"

She nods affirmatively as she texts away on her phone.

He walks into the  liquor store, recognizing the same man behind the counter. It's always the same man, looking bored, looking like he'd rather be at his friend's party, rather be anywhere then there to help out with the family business on a Friday night.

Always the same man behind the counter every time he walks in to indulge in one of his many vices.

The man is on the phone, irritated. "I don't know, the black one," he grumbles. They lock eyes as he enters. He gives him a familiar nod as he continues his unpleasant conversation over the phone, already reaching towards the cigarette stand.

"Marlboro Menthol 100s, and a pack of Camel Crushes," he tells him. "Please."

The man behind the counter produces the familiar green and white pack, plus a small, black one to pair the coupling.

He hands him a twenty; he hands him his change and gives him another nod.

"Thanks. Have a good one."

Proper social etiquette is something he values, especially when dealing with people who have something he wants.

He returns to the car and drops off the black cigarette pack and change back to her through the window.

"Okay, get in," she commands.

He shakes his head. "Naw, I can walk back."

She has genuine concern in her eyes. He doesn't like it. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I do it all the time. I'll be fine." She doesn't believe him, so to assure her he adds, "Besides, you're already late."

Good enough reason, at least she thinks so. She shrugs and exits the car back onto the main street. He's already turned away and walked off in the opposite direction.

He stops to open the fresh pack, takes out a cigarette and lights it with a match. A deep breath brings smoke into his lungs, along with relief.

He exhales it back out, taking the feelings of guilt with it.

He tightens the scarf around his neck, holds his coat closer to his body to protect him from the night chill as he makes his way back home.

As he walks the dark and sullen sidewalk, he can't help but ask himself how he ended up here—alone.

They're only going to fail you, a voice says in the back of his head.

Don't give yourself away. They only disappoint.

He explores what this small, thoughtful voice is saying as he continues walking. He takes a deep drag off his cigarette as he ponders.

"It's true," he suddenly says aloud, slightly surprising himself. "They only let me down."

Encouraged, the voice continues. Why bother trying anymore? They only make you sad.

He gives heed to the voice he hears, as if it's coming from all around him, until he makes his way closer to home, where the sound of a not-so-distant football game begins to drown out everything else around him, even the voice inside his head.

The last thing he hears as he makes his way through the threshold of his home strikes a cord within him.

It's okay to give up now.

Past Life

05-0419:

Ahh, then I went home all dejected-like because I was depressed about the gelato and I didn't get my Ringside CD, so I crawled into bed and slept for. like. three hours.

Oh, and before I went inside the house, I decided that it would be nice if I had a cigarette, so I smoked one out on the patio until I realized Papa had been watching me from the glass doors.

Then he's like, You're smoking?! When did you start smoking?! and blah blah angry I-care-about-your-health cakes.

But I was like, Whatever. and trudged upstairs, slamming my door dramatically before locking it, of course.

How cliché. When did I turn into this angry, emotional teenager with issues who stopped talking to everyone and put on this sour face and started hating life and everyone in it?

What an unexpected change from the boy who so very much wanted to be loved.

(source)

Ballad

Meat Loaf – I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)

(lyrics)

THE HILLS: Can You Meet Me Halfway?

BLACK TITLE CARD: "THE HILLS"

LEO (V.O.)
Previously on "The Hills..."

CUT TO:

INT. THE X – MORNING

LEO and the rest of the VISUAL TEAM are hard at work executing a large floorset throughout the store. It's all about BLACK, WHITE, AND RED, and VERY PROPS-HEAVY -- it screams HOLIDAY.

LEO (V.O.)
I was hard at work with the new
holiday floorset, meaning more
hours, and more money.
(beat)
Unfortunately, more hours for
my bank account meant less hours
for my social account, which,
like my bank account, was already
nearing bankruptcy.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE X – DAY (LATER)

Leo exits the store after a long day. He's texting.

C.U. – LEO'S PHONE

TO: CHRISTIAN
Sorry I'm late. Just left work. You still free to hang?

He presses SEND.

CUT TO:

INT. TROLLEY – LATER

The sun is already setting. Leo looks at his phone.

C.U. – LEO'S PHONE
The screen reads 1 NEW MESSAGE. He opens it.

FROM: CHRISTIAN
Busy running errands. Sorry. :(

Leo SIGHS and shuts his phone. He shifts his gaze out the window, annoyed.

CUT TO:

INT. BAR – NIGHT (LATER)

Leo sits alone at the bar. The BARTENDER hands him a double-vodka tonic.

Leo toasts the empty stool beside him somberly before taking a long swig.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE X – DAY

Leo is on break, smoking. He's joined by CAMERON, eating a small take-out bowl of pasta.

LEO (V.O.)
Thankfully, unlike my bank account,
I still had some social currency
saved away for rainy days, like
a friend like Cameron to help me
cash in a big reality check.

CAMERON
You know what your problem is, Leo?

Leo turns his head languidly to face Cameron.

LEO
(feigned interest)
Oh, do tell, dear friend.

CAMERON
You expect too much from people.

Leo SNORTS and takes another drag off his cigarette.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
(re: Leo's response)
What? Am I wrong?

LEO
No, dear friend. You're not. In
fact, you're actually right on
the money. However, I don't feel
as if these expectations aren't
justified. After all, it's not
like the expectations I put on
other people aren't as high as
the ones I put on myself.

Cameron takes this in as he works through a few bites of pasta. Finally, he comes up with something.

CAMERON
Okay, two things –- One: are the
people you're putting these
expectations on capable of even
meeting them?

Leo thinks about this.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
(patronizingly)
Yes, we all know you're great. Yes,
we all know you have the capacity
to go above and beyond what's
expected of you. We all know that
about you, but do you know that
about them? Can you say the same
things you can do, they can do
just as well?

A small frown forms on Leo's face –- the answer is no.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
And two: do they even know what
the expectations are that you're
hanging around their necks?

This catches Leo off guard. From the look on his face, the answer is an even bigger NO.

Cameron smirks, satisfied.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
Didn't think so.

 

LEO
So, what? To be happy and have
my expectations met, I need to
draft a policy with everyone I
know to let them know what I want
from them and have them sign and
date it, promising to uphold the
aforementioned expectations?

Now it's Cameron's turn to SNORT.

CAMERON
You're nothing short of extreme,
you know that?
(beat)
No, what I'm saying is you can't
walk into a friendship expecting
one thing and not even telling
the second party of the friendship
your expectations. Other people
have different thoughts of what
being friends means, and unless
you're clear about what you want
from them, they're never going
to give you what they want.

Leo takes this in and nods in understanding.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
And second of all, stop putting
yourself first. It's not always
about what YOU want in a friendship.
Maybe people don't want to hang
out with you as much as they do
with their other friends because
you don't put any thought into
what THEY want. Have you ever
thought about that?

Leo cocks an eyebrow at him -- a challenging no.

Cameron SIGHS, exasperated.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
Oh, Leo. I don't even know where
to begin with you. Friendship is
not just about having one person's
needs met, aka yours. Both parties
need to get something out of it.
You need to meet each other halfway.

Leo struggles to take this in, a new concept he's trying to wrap his head around.

LEO
You think that's why all my other
relationships failed miserably?
Because I don't know how to compromise?

CAMERON
(deadpan)
No, I think it's because you're
a lousy lay.

Leo looks at him, mock-insulted.

LEO
I'll have you know I'm great in
bed, thank you.

CAMERON
Sure, let me just ask all those
one-night tricks of yours that
turned out to be nothing more.

LEO
Ouch. Fuck you.

CAMERON
No, thanks. You're probably not
going to even try to meet my
needs, so why bother?

Leo mock-glares at him. Cameron smiles sweetly back in return.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
Love ya.

Leo blows smoke in his face. Cameron SCREAMS, COUGHS.

CAMERON (CONT'D)
Eww, you bitch!

Leo smiles back at him.

LEO
(a la Cameron)
Love ya.

END ACT ONE.

Too lazy to finish the rest. Maybe later. :)

Soul-Shredding Wordplay* #2

Part of me might want him to realize that nothing had changed since he'd been here last, that the orle of paradise was still there, and that the tilting gate to the beach still squeaked, that the world was exactly as he'd left it, minus Vimini, Anchise, and my father.

This was the welcoming gesture I meant to extend.

But another part of me wanted him to sense there was no point trying to catch up now—we'd traveled and been through too much without each other for there to be any common ground between us.

Perhaps I wanted him to feel the sting of loss, and grieve.

But in the end, and by way of compromise, perhaps, I decided that the easiest way was to show I'd forgotten none of it.

Sometimes, the old saying rings false.

Sometimes you can't go back home again.

- - -

And just for fun:

"Come, I'll take you to San Giacomo before you change your mind," I finally said. "There is still time before lunch. Remember the way?"

"I remember the way."

"You remember the way," I echoed.

He looked at me and smiled. It cheered me. Perhaps because I knew he was taunting me.

Twenty years was yesterday, and yesterday was just earlier this morning, and morning seemed light-years away.

"I'm like you," he said. "I remember everything."

I stopped for a second.

If you remember everything, I wanted to say, and if you are really like me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you're just ready to shut the door of the taxi and have already said goodbye to everyone else and there's not a thing left to say in this life, then, just this once, turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze, and call me by your name.

Powerful stuff, this book.


* Aciman, Andre. Call Me By Your Name. New York: Picador, 2008. Print.

Gallery Art: #1

(source)

0 – The Fool

Had a fortune teller offer me all the answers to my burning questions, I wouldn't know what to ask.

Admittedly, I am the type of person who needs to know how things will play out — whether in regards to a book, a movie, a television series, what have you.

In those terms, I like knowing what to expect. It's not the end result I'm truly concerned with; it's how the journey arrives at its destination that intrigues me the most — the vast difference, the tremendous amount of growth that took place between Point A and Point Z.

As much as I'd like to say the same reasoning applies to my outlook on my life, I truly can't.

I can honestly say that I don't really care how my life will end up—what I'll be doing, who I'll be with, where I'll be.

For one, I don't want to look at my life in terms of a timeline and measure out an end point, a finite moment in my life where I can breathe a sigh of relief knowing I've reached my goal and there is nothing left to do anymore.

It's my mission in life to constantly achieve personal growth, to constantly be motivated by the urge to learn and grow and make myself better.

Setting expectations and striving to meet them to me is like setting a limitation. Once I've met that goal, then what?

Which explains why I like leaving things vague and open-ended—it leaves plenty of room for possibility, for unforeseen events that can throw my plan off course and set me on a new direction, a new opportunity for personal growth.

Sure, it makes life a lot more difficult to measure in terms of success and achievements, but from where am I really basing these units of measurement in the first place?

I've only learned that to compare other people's personal successes and achievements to my own will only lead me to disappointment until I force myself to realize that we are two different people with two different goals, two different mindsets, two different sets of priorities—so why even bother comparing the two?

It's like apples to oranges—there is no common denominator, therefore the comparison is invalid, inappropriate.

Also, I don't care how my life ends up because it really doesn't matter all that much to me.

Granted, I do have a few base requirements:
- I have a job I am absolutely passionate about that makes me want to get out of bed in the morning for
- I have a loving partner who supports and challenges me, and I the same to him
- I have children who I cherish and can teach the lessons I've learned and help spread goodwill
- I live day to day with no regrets in full pursuit of my own happiness

I admit that these requirements are pretty lofty and pretty challenging to measure up to, but at least it gives me something to strive for, something to go after with every day of my life.

And that's all I pretty much need.

Everything else, I've learned to accept as they come to me.

I look forward to meeting what life has to offer me head-on, as they come to me.

I can't allow myself to sit and wait for my fortune to come to fruition.

I'm just putting blind faith into my Fate that everything I ask for will come to me in due time, and everything else will just fall into place.

Defying Gravity

GLINDA:
Elphaba- why couldn't you have stayed calm for once, instead of flying off the handle!
I hope you're happy!
I hope you're happy now.
I hope you're happy how you hurt your cause forever.
I hope you think you're clever!

ELPHABA:
I hope you're happy.
I hope you're happy, too.
I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission to feed your own ambition.

BOTH:
So though I can't imagine how, I hope you're happy right now.

GLINDA:
Elphie, listen to me.
Just say you're sorry.
You can still be with the Wizard, what you've worked and waited for.
You can have all you ever wanted.

ELPHABA:
I  know.
But I don't want it.
No- 
I can't want it anymore.
(beat)
Something has changed within me.
Something is not the same.
I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game.
Too late for second-guessing.
Too late to go back to sleep.
It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap…
It's time to try defying gravity.
I think I'll try defying gravity, and you can't pull me down!

GLINDA:
Can't I make you understand?
You're having delusions of grandeur.

ELPHABA:
I'm through accepting limits 'cause someone says they're so.
Some things I cannot change, but till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost.
Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost!
I'd sooner buy defying gravity.
Kiss me goodbye.
I'm defying gravity.
And you can't pull me down!
(beat)
Glinda, come with me.
Think of what we could do- together.
Unlimited.
Together, we're unlimited.
Together, we'll be the greatest team there's ever been.
Glinda-
Dreams, the way we planned them.

GLINDA:
If we work in tandem.

BOTH:
There's no fight we cannot win. 
Just you and I defying gravity.
With you and I, defying gravity.

ELPHABA:
They'll never bring us down.
(beat)
Well? Are you coming?

GLINDA:
I hope you're happy, now that you're choosing this.

ELPHABA:
You, too.
(beat)
I hope it brings you bliss.

BOTH:
I really hope you get it, and you don't live to regret it.
I hope you're happy in the end.
I hope you're happy, my friend.

ELPHABA:
So if you care to find me, look to the western sky! 
As someone told me lately:
"Everyone deserves the chance to fly!"
And if I'm flying solo,  at least I'm flying free.
To those who'd ground me, take a message back from me.
Tell them how I am defying gravity.
I'm flying high, defying gravity.
And soon I'll match them in renown.
And nobody in all of Oz, no Wizard that there is or was, is ever gonna bring me down!

GLINDA:
I hope you're happy!

CITIZENS OF OZ:
Look at her, she's wicked!
Get her!
No one mourns the wicked.
So we've got to bring her down!

The "I" in "Team"

I am a hard worker, therefore I will be successful in life.

It's not about doing things the right way anymore.

Doing my job the way I am directed to do so on paper is no longer my focus, because I have proven time and time again I am more than capable of doing so.

The challenge, I know now, is to disregard whether I'm doing my job right or not, and to just simply be a team player.

Enough said.

A Friend in Need is a Friend Who's Fucked

I don't know where things stand, and that to me is what I find the most frustrating.

I'm a dynamic, ever-changing person, so it's stability and consistency that I crave the most— some sort of grounding element that helps pull me back when I start to drift out.

And lately, there hasn't been much of that going for me.

There hasn't been a floor, that aforementioned grounding element to help reel me back in lately, especially during these recent times when I've been feeling all at a loss— lost in myself, lost in my problems, lost in my loneliness.

I've not felt that support I've so desperately seeking, so it feels as if I'm tail-spinning further out into the unknown, into somewhere far away, somewhere unfamiliar, dark in complete isolation with no guide to help bring me back to the life I've known.

Maybe perhaps I'm partly to blame regarding this situation in which I've found myself.

Admittedly, it is not in my nature to reach out when I feel like I am being pulled away.

I expect someone, anyone to take the first step and grab hold of me to pull me back in, bring me back to the world, let me know that I'm safe and supported.

I know it's an unfair expectation to hang around peoples' neck, but it let's me know that I'm not alone in this world, that there is someone out there who cares for me, watching out for me.

But no.

Same shit, different day, I guess.

Every time this had happened, I never got what I had wanted all along: a friend, someone close, someone I trust, to just even drop a line to say Hey, what's going on? Let's go have a cup of coffee and talk.

I don't expect much from anyone, but this is pretty much my only requirement for people who really want to be a true friend in my book.

Someone to just look past all the I'm fines and I'm okays and make the attempt to pry it out of me to see what's really on my mind, and helping me to see that no, I'm not all alone in this world.

But do I ever get that?

Nope.

Nope, nope, nope.

None of that at all.

So can you blame a guy for wallowing in pity after realizing that yeah, he pretty much is all alone in the world? That this feeling of a vast cloud of loneliness hanging above him is in fact justified?

Didn't think so.

So I guess it's up to me again to pull myself out of this sea of misery I'm drowning myself in.

It's up to me yet again to take the responsibility to get myself to buck the fuck up and get on with life, because obviously no one else is gonna risk reaching their hand out to help me up.

And I wonder why I'm so self-sufficient sometimes, so stubbornly independent that I absolutely refuse to ask for help when I know not doing so will only shoot me in the foot.

Can you blame a guy for not trusting anyone to help him out when they haven't given him a reason to trust them in the first place?

I'm tired of this.

I'm tired of investing all my time and energy caring for other people, showing them I'm capable of being a great friend when they never seem to do the same for me in return.

I will drop everything I'm doing at a moment's notice to meet up with you at your insistence.

I will persistently ask you what's wrong until you really tell me what's on your mind.

I will put aside my own problems so that I can genuinely help you out with yours.

I will be the one to reach out and pull you back in when it feels like you're spinning out of control.

And now I won't be the one waiting for your phone call when I'm on the other side of the situation, because in all honesty: what have you done for me lately?

I'm tired of this shit. I don't care anymore.

Deal with your own drama, because you're the one leaving me to deal with my own.

Failure to Launch

I'm feeling trapped.

I feel like I'm stuck in self-destructive cycle, doomed to keep on repeating the same mistakes that tear me to shreds, only to force myself to gather all the strength I've got left in me to pick myself back up, only to allow myself to get knocked back down again.

I don't know where I'm going.

I'm feeling as if I've done it all before, over and over again, and just like all those previous trials and tribulations, I've failed—failed so miserably so many times that it seems that that's the only solution I can arrive at without batting an eye, without even trying.

Maybe that's the problem.

Maybe I'm not even trying.

It feels as if I've been letting myself fall by the wayside so many times already that it's become the go-to answer, the default option I let myself go to when things get rough and situations call for me to step up and be a man.

I'm letting myself lose.

Why am I doing this to myself?

Why am I prioritizing the trivial when all along I know I what I need to do is to just buckle down and get my shit done?

Am I failing on purpose?

Maybe. I wouldn't put it past me, knowing my previous track record concerning this particular modus operandi.

But why?

For attention?

No, I don't need the attention. This isn't a cry for help, at least not the way I see it.

I don't want to draw attention to myself this way by spotlighting the fact that I can't focus, can't do what just needs to get done, can't do what it takes to just move on already.

I'm exhausted. I've been working so much, working my ass off.

Caring too much.

Why am I doing this?

Why am I pouring all my energy into my work when I already know I've proven myself?

Granted, I admit there is still some residual guilt left in me for having thrown it all away in the first place. I've not forgotten what I had to go through to get back to where I am now.

Humiliation aside, I'm glad I went through it. It's humbled me, knocked me down a couple pegs.

It gave me the opportunity to learn from previous mistakes, old failures, and make something better of myself.

And I have. I've proven I was worth the second chance, proved that I can change, that I've grown, that I can do so much better.

Knowing that, being able to acknowledge that, see the difference from who I was to who I'm becoming— that alone has been one of the most truly gratifying gifts I could ever give myself.

But what now?

I don't feel challenged anymore.

I'm not motivated to do anything else, not inspired to bring myself to action for… anything, it feels like.

I hate to say I'm dead inside. I know I'm not.

But something in me feels like it's broken.

Something in me is not clicking, something in me is not fueling the fire to get me off my ass and do something, anything.

I've fallen behind in my schoolwork, which is completely ridiculous and unacceptable, I know, considering the fact that I've only got one class to worry about this time around.

I can't fail it again, can't waste anymore of my time.

But that desire to not fail doesn't seem to be enough for me to motivate myself to do something about it.

I'm normally an action-oriented person.

Something ignites my interest, flames my passion, makes me want to get up and rule the goddamn world.

But I haven't felt that way in quite a while now, and I don't know why.

It feels as if I've fallen back in a slump.

The only consistent thing about me is my erratic mood swings.

I go from happy, inspired, brilliant, jubilant, to melancholic, apathetic, lethargic at the drop of a hat.

One moment I'm up, up, and up, and the next… I don't know what happens or how I get there, but the next thing I know is that I feel like I'm on a tailspin towards depression.

It is that time of the year…

I'm more susceptible to depression 'round this time.

I never do so well in the fall and winter months, when the only feeling I can recognize in me can be summed up as "bleak."

This is when the vices increase, intensify to a new level of addiction I'm normally capable of staving off any other time of the year.

This is when I feel the most empty, when I rediscover the void in my heart still exists and has continued to go on unfulfilled.

So what do I do?

I fill that void within me with more vices, in desperate hopes to plug up the hole that I can't fill, can't even name, can't even fathom how vast and bottomless it is.

More cigarettes, more alcohol, more pharmaceuticals.

More unfulfilled longing for love and intimacy, covered up by casual sex and artificial detachment.

This is the time of year I fuck myself up even more than I already am.

Because I am a fuck up.

No matter how intelligent I can make myself sound, no matter how competent I can portray myself to be, no matter how confident I can carry myself to look,  it still doesn't make up for the fact that I'd rather take the easier route and make a mess of myself than to even try to break out of the self-destructive cycle I've been in since God knows when.