Every time I start wondering how I’m gonna jump ship, they go and make it easy on me by sinking the boat.
Self-fulfilling prophecy?
I wonder when I’ll be ready for something real again, because I’m getting too old for this shit.
All the good ones are already taken anyway.

Every year I make a list of resolutions I’m excited about for like two weeks and then completely forget about for the other fifty.
This year, however, my list boils down to one thing: finding again the magic I used to feel during the holidays. I don’t know where it went but I miss it.

And then I said “let’s stay out here until your wife decides to forgive you for coming out to drink with me” to my coworker. Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic. But at 3 am, five hours later, it got just way too damn cold for me to care what happened.

Once again my dad has bested me in an argument. The best type of charity work is not charity itself but revolution. Instead of helping that kid in Africa get a meal for a month, you go and change the way the society in which that kid lives is set up so that this kid will never be in need of a meal again. The best way to deal with an illness is not to treat the symptom but the cause of the illness.
Sure it’s much more ambitious, but if it works even in the slightest you end up with results on a wider scope.

There is no such thing as a calculated risk. Even the smallest risk.. or no risk at all… could have the most damaging consequences. Or it could be the recipe for magic.
So when people ask if you’re willing to go through it all over again, and risk end up in the shitter once more, pining, sobbing, cursing… you say… You say abso-mothafucken-lutely!