sickboy

the road to recovery is hard. although a slight fever, headache and colds is something easy enough to deal with. it's harder when it's an uncooperative stomach. it's a fucking nightmare when it's your lifestyle. it's nearly impossible when it's a perennial character flaw.

underlying insecurity seems to be an incurable, debilitating illness that has plagued me most of my life. nevermind conquering a living, breathing rival. that's easy. i've mastered that. i can easily fake a superiority complex in the face of the most conceited fool, or at least quietly beat him like a persevering turtle. but when measuring against others becomes a way of thinking that can't be shaken off, then i guess i'm really just walking with a crutch.

it's funny that being privileged has always made me think that i should always be thankful for what i have, that the feeling of entitlement is something that i should purge. but it only makes me deprive myself of things that i really need - like time, or rest. and it sucks that when karl, who bears the brunt of my crutch, tries to help me out, i just feel more battered than i already am.

you do it to yourself, you do, and that's what really hurts. you do it to yourself, just you, you and no one else.