What do you do when you hear the morning birds at 2 AM in the wee hours of a shitty Saturday? I might be slightly intoxicated right now, but I am fully aware of the time and these birds are not due for another four hours. I should be living in a hotel room, estranged from my family, sleeping around, charming everyone around me, getting into trouble with the law, drinking and smoking all the fucking time. Oh, I'm just pulling a Hank Moody, except that Hank is purely fictional, a dreamer's reality. I am well, somewhat in between. A more altered Hank Moody if you must, apart from all the wit and the insanely attractive attitude and the pot of course. His pot, I mean, is far better in quantity and quality. Hank Moody aside, the question that's been bothering me; why do we put ourselves through so much pain and anxiety when we actually, don't have to? What makes us all want to experience this tremendous amount of emotion? Regardless of how many times I have put myself through it, I still have yet to find out the point in overwhelming emotion. I have mentally brainstormed and pointed out, to myself, almost all the times when I have fallen and the times when I have been riding high. I've never really let myself fall into the middle which I think everyone should, at some point. I fear that I won't be able to because I need to know the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows of everything and anything. I need to feel like shit on some days and feel like God on others. It may sound like a disorder but we all know it's a natural phenomenon. It's how much control you have over yourself, really.
Now playing: Love - The Good Humor Man He Sees Everything Like This
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