Why I Casually F*ck Up Every Good Thing That Happens To Me
If life is about minimizing regrets, mine is about drowning in them.
Well, I wouldn’t technically classify them as regrets, I’d rather call them lessons, f*ck ups and a sh*t ton of experiences — good and bad. Because that’s the way I like to live my life, chock full of f*cks ups, mistakes and unconsciously and consciously ruining every good thing that happens to me.
If you’re like this too, then you understand. You understand that there’s nothing worse than feeling like you are your own demise. There’s no worse feeling than knowing you’re the one ruining all those moments and possibilities.
There’s absolutely nothing more liberating and terrifying than knowing you’re solely responsible for all the sh*t that’s happened to you.
Because unfortunately, after graduating from high school (and college), we start to realize our parents are no longer suitable scapegoats. They’re not around us enough to constantly destroy everything good in our lives.
It was you who threw away $5o at the club when you needed that money for train fare tomorrow. It was you who went the wrong way for 20 minutes instead of asking someone for directions.
It was you who left your third scarf at the bar because, yet again, you were too drunk to remember. But why do we do these things? Why do we inadvertently screw ourselves over day in and day out? Why don’t we just learn?
I’m not sure about you, but I think I unconsciously sabotage myself because it’s more fun this way. I crave the drama, the stress and the excitement of living an imperfect life. I like things to be messy and unclear and… who the f*ck am I kidding? I’m just a masochist. Plain and simple.
Because my parents are expecting me to fail, and I don’t like to disappoint them.
I like to make sure I’m always living up to my parents’ expectations. If I suddenly start changing now, they could go into shock. And that’s just irresponsible…
Because it’s more fun to make mistakes.
Isn’t it always the mistakes that lead to the crazy one-time experiences? You wouldn’t have half the stories you do if you hadn’t accidentally tripped, walked into or unsafely driven to something.
Because I learn better from experiences that went wrong.
If everything went according to plan, then I’d have nothing to talk about, write about or live for. Who wants to live in “The Truman Show”?
Because I actually don’t want to deal with being successful.
If I keep f*cking up, I don’t have to deal with the responsibility that comes with being expected not to make mistakes. There’s a method to the madness.
Because I'm paying attention to other things.
If wanting to see everything that’s going on around me is taking me longer to get where I need to go, I’d rather be late.
Because I like my life to be as hard as possible.
What’s the fun in an easy life?
Because there's nothing better than starting over.
Starting fresh — a new leaf, another try, a new beginning… these are the most beautiful words in the English language (any language, for that matter).
Because you don't realize what you had until you f*cked it up.
You can’t possibly understand how important something is to you until you experience the pain of losing it.
Because telling me it’s “so important” automatically ensures that it matters less to me.
There’s something hardwired in the brain that creates the capacity to destroy anything that’s supposed to be taken with care. That shirt you weren’t supposed to spill on is doomed from the moment your sister tells you to “be careful with it.”
Because someone asked you to do it, you definitely don’t want to do it.
Now that it seems mandatory, I’m going to procrastinate the rest of the day until I just forget about it completely.
Because it doesn’t seem worth it if it’s easy.
If it didn’t come with multiple attempts and a few mistakes, the glory just isn’t as great.
Because everything I put my hands on turns to dust.
It’s a very powerful gift… it just never works in my favor.
Because when we get things for free, we take them for granted.
Anything that’s given, found or bought on sale always ends up like how it was before it came to me: non-existent.
Because it’s fun.
There’s nothing more fun than trying to cover up a mistake, even if takes until much later to realize how fun it really was.
Because it keeps it interesting.
Because if my whole life went according to plan, I’d be bored.
Because I’d rather have my pride than ask for help.
Sorry, but I’d rather cross the street three times than look like an idiot and ask you for directions.
Because as soon as someone likes me, it’s officially too easy.
Yes, she was perfect, but I’d rather have a chase.
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