It's a fine, fine life.

I can't handle it when people are angry at me. Like, at all. The worst feeling in the world is when someone I love is mad, at me, and half the time I know I don't deserve it, because I didn't mean it to sound sarcastic, and I wasn't disagreeing with you, I was just wondering, and maybe I AM telling the truth, and if you'd listen to me for half a second you'd realize that.

And then I think, why do I care? Why am I pleading with a person who is too angry to listen? If they're so quick to judge, and overreact, and misinterpret, why do I want them back on my side? And if someone won't just come out and say that they're mad, how the hell are you supposed to figure it out on your own? What if I'M the one doing the misinterpreting and jumping to conclusions?

I don't know. God. My equation for life seems really applicable at the moment. Goodnight.


What do you see when you turn out the lights?
I can't tell you, but I know it's mine.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends.
Oh, gonna try with a little help from my friends,
a little help from my fri-e-e-e-ends.