Writing a text and not sending it is almost the same thing as sending it.

I say a lot of shit because of “poor impulse control,” but fuck - the things I hold back are really devastating.

Aaaaand…

You know what, fuck it.

The world you’re making in your own head is worse that the world that’s gonna be, so calm the fuck down and learn to accept the world as it is.

You’re gonna die at some point so just be happy and don’t sweat it.

Dance like the world isn’t full of shit or some such.

Fuck you, I’m tired of your catasphising.

Didn’t save you from what happened, didn’t save me from my marriage dying, so fuck everything - it’ll go on and it’ll be okay or it won’t and that’s beautiful.

In vino veritas.

Bullshit’s gonna happen, a lot of it. You worrying it ain’t gonna stop it.

Be happy, live your life and then fucking move on.

Ain’t no point to the fucking worrying.

Just makes it harder to enjoy the goddamn ride.

To paraphrase a million year old fjord architect, hang the sense it, just keep yourself busy and be happy.

Get over yourself and do something about it, even if it’s just getting drunk.

I’m tired of all the fucking hand wringing and self-suffering.

Yeah, you’re sad about the election.

WE ALL ARE - it’s fucking life. you’re not supposed to be happy, you’re supposed to suffer, make another person, and die. you get to be happy by accident.

HAVE AN ACCIDENT.