If there's anything I'm really really good at, it's imagining my way through an entire lifetime. It's the megalomaniac in me I think. A controlled environment feels safer, immune to self-doubt and regret. Plus it's a lot more interesting when you get to manipulate the peaks and dips. Especially the dips.

And then I let this happen. What the hell was I thinking? There's a reason why I stuck with that ever thickening chain. Now I'm letting it rust away. Fortune favors the bold, some Roman once said. Fortune likes to take a truck load of crap on you each chance it gets, that's what I say.

O eto pa isa, Love rewards the brave daw. Bullshit. Since when did eyebags and paranoia qualify as prizes?