Sometimes life is such a motherf_cker that sleeping always seems like the best option.

There are times, more often than not, when I look back at what has brought me to where I am now. Often I find myself playing the ‘What If’ game.

‘What If’ I would have zigged instead of zagged?

‘What If’ I would have chose the door on the right, instead of the left? 

‘What If’ the things I let consume my thoughts go, instead of allowing them to wreak havoc on my mental state?

Honestly the questions I have would continue to flow. I just don’t have the time to post them all, not to mention I’d rather not bog you down with all that’s left.

Those I’ve chosen to let in my head know some of these things and they’ve offered many pearls of wisdom. To those of you who know who you are, thank you for your genius. 

If you’re reading this wondering ‘why is he on a random rant?’ To tell you the truth, my heart’s not collaborating with my mind which in turn is creating a tad bit of conflict. All of this will subside soon. I just felt the need to get this off my chest. 

As I re-read this, I think to myself, ‘you’re being INCREDIBLY vague. Knock it off!’ 

I think I’m being vague because I want to cry. I’m torn with internal conflict. I’m not afraid to spill the beans. This is not the right time. When will be the right time? Who knows? Time is the only one who can answer that question.

I’d like to lay down, go to sleep, then wake up and have all of my internal shit disappear: 

clouded thoughts, doubt, debt, and overall mental anguish that prevents me from BEING the most badass motherfucker on the planet. 

This is the part of the dialogue where I profess that I’m human and fully capable of making mistakes.

It’s Saturday night. I shouldn’t be blogging about heavy shit. I should be out raising a pint with friends, or making love to a beautiful woman … like my ex. Alas, I feel like a tortured soul who may never be able to completely experience the fruits of my labor without guilt.

Truth be told, I’m shedding a few tears as I type this in hopes that some of the anguish that plagues my inner systems fucks off, thus allowing me to be able TO raise a pint or share a laugh later tonight. I could probably call my ex and make up some phony reason to get together, then hope to make love to her by night’s end, but would it be worth it? Seeing she’s leaving for greener pastures soon. I’d rather respect her and not play those kind of games with her heart. 

I’m not trying to sound self-righteous and all ‘way to go CP! You’re doing the right thing!’ It’s more of a common sense thing. Would I want that to happen to me knowing that may be the last hurrah? 

All in all, I’m a good soul who has done a lot of good things, yet for some reason, I don’t feel like karma has payed me back for any of my effort.

Now I’m just rambling.

Sorry.

I have to get my shit together and go paint a fake smile on my face. Thanks for taking the time to read this. I’ll figure things out. After all, “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger”, right?