Doggy Day Afternoon

So while sitting on the edge of my wall, trying to pump the brakes on my emotions. A crooked smile creases my face with thoughts that can old be resolved in action. There is nothing like having a doggy day late afternoon with your mind caught in the crosshairs of chaos. It feels like an orchestrated symphony of nothingness. Two days ago was my birthday- now three days, and I took stock of the people who have treated me like shit and the ones I have axed out. I felt proud of my achievement seeing as I used to be Jim Carrey's character in the movie, "Yes Man." (You should see it.). I am not typically given to lengthy explanations about the emotional trauma the actions of people who supposedly love me have caused. Naturally, forgiveness is my first point of action but that ship has sailed. With all little over half a decade to mid-life crisis- the voldemort of life for men- the erosion of my resolve is,  "at my age, I should not give a shit about how people feel". This is affirmative for me as a person whose entire existence until recently has been naivete, and always thinking that people deserve second chances. Well, and again, let me state for the record that if you are messing up after 28 years of existence then you don't deserve a second chance, Your bare ass needs to be kicked to the curb on a rainy day in the pit of winter in Iceland, or maybe  drop into an active volcano. #meekbelike Niggas aint loyal.

I have lost friends I do not miss, and axed confidants with relief. Second chances may be an attribute of the strong but doing the same thing and expecting different results is lunacy. Accept it. Know well.