So it took exactly 3 weeks for my life to turn into a massive cluster fuck.

I guess I really just don't get it. I don't feel like airing my issues on the internet, but god dammit sometimes I'm such a fucking asshole.

I'm one of those people who fights for the good things in my life. Whether or not they turn out well for me is an entirely different story, but I fight like hell for them because I don't think anything worth having is ever easy.

This becomes a problem when people involved in the situation have the exact opposite mentality.

It becomes a gigantic fucking problem when I realize that there's nothing I can do to change the situation because no one will let me, and all I see is what could've been if I was given a fair shot.

It becomes a gigantic fucking problem, when you combine all of these factors. Because the same thing happens to me every time.

I talk.

And I know what you're probably thinking. That this sounds like a situation where talking is a good thing.

That's because you're wrong.

Because what happens is too much starts swirling in my head. I start processing every experience, every conversation and pretty much everything that ever happened in the history of the world as it relates to this, and then inevitably someone asks me a question.

And because I'm a jackass who can't remember that other people can't actually hear what's going on inside my head, I tend to answer those questions with responses that sound shitty because there's no context for the other person to draw from. Then I wind up writing blog posts at 1:49 AM on a school night trying to hash out my thoughts when I really should've done that before I opened my big fucking mouth.

So the moral of this story?

I shouldn't be allowed to talk.