33. My actual physical age of life on this planet of stuff. What else does it mean to me, anyways? The older you get the wiser you become, the old adage goes. I feel wiser, I know I’ve become more rational, thoughtful and careful in decisions I make. Yet, through it all I realize that the older I become the less inclined my levels of toleration appear to want to grow up with me. Simply put, I know that deep down… I wouldn’t think twice anymore for really fucked up stuff.
I mean, fucked up to an outsider and only somewhat to myself. Intentions aside, as often as they usually lead me horribly astray, I speak of a fucked up sense of just, right and wrong, or what simply sometimes just feels good. Acting on a moment rather than letting the moment act itself out before I make a move. I don’t know. I am wiser. In every way I know I am better than what it is I have ultimately become, my recent progress of a lot of things will attest to this. Yet, is it anger that does me in or keeps me going? Is it a controllable chaos I seek but often let control myself? Perhaps…
I thrive on chaos at the best and worst of times in my life. Chaos, not relentless, no… of course not. Controlled. Why did I do that the other day or this, that… etc. Why would I purposely put myself in such a situation to begin with, some of which act as a second job just to dig myself out of. I digress, point is… most of it is not all that bad, but a few instances I think back on and wonder if I’d ever do worse or maybe learn from it and do better?
I realize it all. That’s my key to happiness regardless of temperaments of any given day. It feels great to know your own faults and accept them. Please, give it a go sometime… faggot.
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