We are intrepid. We carry on.
I’m scared that I will undoubtedly fuck up anything that is good in my life. I’ll fuck it up partly because I am never satisfied and nothing is ever good enough for me, and partly, or rather: I’m never satisfied because I am so scared of getting fucked and not having control over getting fucked, that I would rather fuck it up myself. I’d rather ruin something myself, than take the chance of losing control over it. Although I am scared that this is true, I am not entirely convinced that I will always act this way. I think I have a strong tendency for this behavior, but so long as I am aware of it, I can at least diffuse it a little. Can’t I? Moreover, as a consequence of the above, I am scared that I will never be happy in a relationship. I’m also scared that my lifestyle is preventing me from having a shot at a normal relationship (which requires spending time together) and by the time I slow down, everyone will already be married, and I will only have the hordes of the lost to choose from.
Aren’t we all waiting to be read by someone, praying that they’ll tell us that we make sense?