Show me a guy my age who comes from a loving family, who’s going to school and has a steady job, and it’s like yeah, okay that’s nice but yawn.
But show me a 31 year old who’s been on his own since he was 15, has to skip work for court, drinks constantly and sleeps with a loaded glock on his nightstand and I’m like hey wanna get a beer and fall madly in love?
But I’ve always been that way with horses, so maybe I’m not broken. I’ve always preferred horses that other people label as psychotic or mean. Horses that need attention and work. Maybe I’m just the same way with people.
I don’t care that you got into drugs for three months straight, or how much sleep you lost in that period. I don’t care that you went home and fucked that person and woke up at 6am hating everything about yourself, or that you smoked so much you sounded as though your lungs were giving out.
You’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.
You’re just human, and being human means you need to survive and you do so whichever way you deem fit, fuck everyone else.”