Contemplative.

Whyyyyy . Uhh. That's the question of the hour currently. Why. Was I born a masochist? Do I like inflicting pain on myself so muchh? I mean, Freud, a man who I look up to a lot, says

"Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise."

Alarms in my head started to go off awhile ago, and I should've known when my first instinct (God bless my body for trying to protect me) was to NOT tell my best friend. Y'know, the one who would be brutally honest with me when I REALLY need it.

I mean, at that point, I started to feel different internally, but I mean, why worry about that odd feeling in your chest when you could finally obtain what you've been lusting over? To spare a long, drawn out, over dramatic story -- I figured things out fast. I mean, I kept on thinking (after I told my best friend), wasn't replying back because he was so disappointed that I fell back into the same female trap. Of course, he was just working out, but the fact that I knew he would be disappointed, I don't know, just seems odd.

Freud also had another significant quote.

"Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead."

Which correlates with what I said before about our body wanting to protect us, and trying to make things better. I just wish my body wasn't so protective -- or I wish that I didn't need to protect myself from asinine situations.

Moral of this story? Cellphones were crafted from the devil. Don't do conditional friends with benefits. Sometimes, you just need to know when you need to let go, period. And most importantly? Don't be a glutton for pain. It's unattractive.

Who am I living for?
Is this my limit?
Can I endure some more?
Chances are giving
Questions existing

Who am I living for?
Is this my limit?
Can I endure some more?
Chances are giving
Questions existing
- Wale