I woke up this morning next to you. You were too tired to get up and I had a reading group to go for. I I didn't feel like talking a lot today. It was too hot and I was having a cold. My head was all fuzzy and the sun didn't help. Came back and we shopped for fishes at Clementi because your fish keep dying and they're all bottom feeders anyway. We took 15 minutes to catch it, but you managed to get a blue "African fish" for me because I liked it. My sister and I went to the supermarket and then cooked dinner for my dad and then we all watched Infernal Affairs 3 together. It was a really nice day aside from the fact that I've been blowing my nose into toilet paper for two days because we had run out of tissues and I'm considering stuffing a wad of it into my nostril to soak up my drippy mucus.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
A tragic hero is one who has a fatal flaw. Because he cannot change, he is ruined.
Humans can change and it seems like we must if we want to live and be happy. It is an illusion to imagine that a person cannot and does not change. All the time our situations and persons are changing and if we can acknowledge it then there is at least some hope that we can put up sails and direct a safe way through, rather than run sideways into the current and wreck ourselves.
I hope to become less stubborn, I don't want to lose sight of important things. I don't want to get myself into trouble I can't get out of. I don't want to ruin myself forever. I don't want to die.