I burnt my fingers while trying to heat up cold pizza. It somehow exploded right out of the oven and onto my fingers trembling trying to stop them from flying straight to the floor with some pepperoni and ham and and pineapple and tomato sauce splattered like a carcass of bloody insides. So there. At times like these you don't know how frustrated I feel. Can't even do anything right. So clumsy. So stupid. Bloody hell, its just pizza. Fuckidy fuck. I don't know how to tell you this. But when you lose control over the tiniest and smallest of matters, you feel as if you have lost control over everything.
How can it be foolish if it feels so real?
You've heard of people who think that the eyes of the whole world are on them and it makes them feel uncomfortable and afraid. You've heard of people who think they are bad luck, who think they will never amount to anything of great importance. You've heard of people who think that death is the real solution to everything. You've heard of people who cut themselves when they feel pain but really, they don't want to die, they just want to bleed a little. Perhaps to punish themselves. You've heard of people who starve themselves to be more beautiful. You've heard of people who eat too much they vomit and yet continue because they are angry and they feel they must consume. You've heard of people who have been molested and raped and their whole life becomes screwed up and they blame everything and anything on that incident and they don't even want to try to live a normal life. You've heard, you've heard, and you've felt its stupid and you've felt you'll never be so stupid. You'll never do all those stuff. They're for silly cowardly people with no control over their lives and no intention to face reality.
But tell me, how can it be foolish if it feels so real?
The anger, the pain, the hurt, the scars, the nightmares, the desires and wishes, the quivering and shaking, the suspicions, the paranoia, the cold sweat that runs down your spine and makes you sit so straight it kills and numbs, the questions and the questioning and the self-doubt and the avoidance like plague, every step neither wrong nor right, every mistake and every risk and every plunge and every wrestle with the devil and the struggles and the meaning to do something about it but stopping hesitating no not really not knowing why anymore.
Often its a matter of how badly you want it.
No. Often its a matter of getting there before they get to you.
Don't let them get to you then. If you want it that badly, you wouldn't let them get to you.