Occam's razor

That was quite something.

It's hard to think clearly. The mind is not as sharp when it is sleep deprived. The body cannot really help when it's starving. The spirit is still pretty numb from the alcohol. I just know that one more time, I am speechless before the opportunity I wasted.

It's not like I really care though.

I'm anesthetized to weird encounters and ensuing failures. I've had one too many. I am experienced enough to read the situation well, clever enough not to make crucial mistakes.
Yet to no avail.
In the end there is always something holding me back.

How could I have guessed? How on earth would I have been able to guess? I went against everything my body was telling me and listened to the brain's plea. And in all truthfulness, it was convincing. Convincing enough to sabotage myself yet again.

I have good excuses this time around though.
Like every other time before.

But deep down I knew that I should have gone for it. I knew this was not a gamble as much as it was a calculated risk.
Obviously, it's always easier in hindsight.

I might love misery even more that it loves my company.
I just don't seem to want to shake that definitively. That's true, those stories that could have been, it is as funny for me to tell them as it is for you to hear.
It's starting to become exceptionally bittersweet though.
On my way back home on my 1st class seat, I just looked outside the window and reminisced. I was not sad, not even harboring regrets. It was just the usual sensation, the one I know way too well.
The feeling of another failure that was not to leave a lasting effect. At least not lasting enough to help me learn from it, henceforth preventing things to happen differently.

And let's be honest, even if I could go back in time and try to change things, I bet a thousand bucks that it would not affect the outcome.
Thank you, Novikov self-consistency principle.
Without you we may have been able to stop some insane mustached phony in time.
And I might have earned a kebab.

I'm not even tired of it all anymore. I'm so used to it now, it just feels like this is intrinsically linked to my behavior and my personality. I gave in some time ago. I've been giving up for quite a while as well.

It's not like I don't want things to change for the better.
It's just that I don't really care anymore.



Regardless of the daily speed bump, this was an awesome night. I had a wonderful time, I laughed a lot, I enjoyed being around, I just loved taking a break from the same old same old. I always love being with you dude, not any less than when we were 7, not any less than when we were 16. That's why I could spend way more than an hour and a half in a train to spend some quality time with one of the most important people in my life. You give me a fresh breath of air that makes me feel invincible, if only for a few hours. It goes a long way to helping my eyes turn red again.
I would not trade our friendship for the world, but I know you know that.
And as little as we would hug in the past and say sentimental stuff, I hope you know;
I love you man.


And now I'm home, hoping I could say that I'm navigating uncharted waters. But I know these waters like the back of my hand now, and even if I make do with that, a change of scenery would be much appreciated. Maybe I just need this to trigger that, maybe I am beating myself up a little too much, maybe I ask too many questions.

Or maybe I just have a bad case of hangover.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXUAX9mREuI