It's funny, looking back on the past few years. The things that used to matter the most back then, means jack squat now. Which makes me appreciate consistency even more. If things mean the same as they did 5 years ago, then that's worthy of something. I feel hypocritical, admitting consistency as an important value in life, since I'm fickle minded by choice. Ah well. I guess we all do have idiocy set in default.
A conversation last night led me to realize that I still have the bad habit of setting an abnormally high standards for people and things. Not the right way to live. I need to calm the hell down and get some help.
We're going to Dingle Island. It's supposed to be very beautiful on summer. They filmed Leap Year there. No I'm not looking for romantic, I just want to go somewhere with pointy cliffs and sharp rocks at the bottom.
I cannot wait to get out of here and out of everyone's ass.
A calm exit, of course.
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