You know, I hate Sundays because you’re just prepping for the hell of Monday. But you know what I’ve realized I REALLY hate? Tuesday. Because at least you’d prepared for Monday being terrible. But then Tuesday shows up and it’s f’ing awful and you didn’t even see it coming.
It would be possible to describe everything scientifically, but it would make no sense; it would be without meaning, as if you described a Beethoven symphony as a variation of wave pressure.
Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel so alive that you’d follow them straight into hell, just to keep getting your fix.