There’s no point in resenting somebody else’s success when you know they deserve it in some way, or at least when you know that you’ve done nothing to deserve anything of the sort.
Long distance relationships of any sort suck. It sucks to miss someone you love because you can’t see them for long. It sucks to miss your closest friend because you study at Pig Sty and they worked hard enough to not. It sucks to miss the only family you’ve ever felt close to because they’re oceans away.
I am the happiest person on the planet.
My fingers are orange from eating a masala-laced dish.
I’m in a lousy mood. I seem to come back here whenever something like this happens.
The point to life is that there is no point. It is what you make of it. What works for you would probably not work for me. What works for me is not something I’d rather shout from the rooftops now, because my actions for quite awhile have been of a rather contrary nature.
Like I said, I never figured myself to be a masochist, or a hypocrite, but it looks like I’ve bested both.
Twilight In The Spaces Between is a novel by David R. Williams that I read a long time back and promised myself I wouldn’t read again.