psyche

I really have no idea what’s going on. Sometimes I wonder, would life be the same if I understood the way some people are? I’m two-faced but being five-faced is bloody well pushing it. I am perfectly willing to pass problems onto others, and so is Elliot, and so be it. Alex chose to become the nucleus of this mess, and thus absolved me (to a relatively high degree) so I am, in fact, content. Sometimes showing off is okay - oh, wait, it’s never okay, my mistake. I remember when I used to wish I would see a line separating wrong from right. I just got a fuzzy rectanguloid thing, so I drew the line. I just drew it.

So, basically, 3/6 (4/6 if you count me) are, as Elliot rationally puts it, “compromised”. This mess is to me as the sea is to a scuttled ship. The caudices loci caudicum split opinion initially, but it turns out that in fact, people don’t mean what they say (at least to me). I should’ve seen it coming; it’s happened before. How long will it be before Hell is my home? Hah, not as long as I once thought, probably.

Pax