I Didn't Kill Anybody, I Swear

   What is it with people (namely me) doing things that we know we'll regret later, AND YET DOING THEM ANYWAY?!?

   Say I ate this cookie. It was delicious. Then I thought, "You know what would be good? Another cookie." And so I was about to take the cookie when I thought, "You know, you should really save that cookie for another time. It would taste much better if you went through a little bit of cookie detox first." And then I thought, "But it would taste almost as good nooooow". And then I thought, "You're gross. Just take your cookie, you will power-lacking gross person." And then I don't even want the cookie anymore. And then I take the cookie anyway but don't enjoy it because I feel like the part of me that could actually be something has lost out to the part of me that eats out of boredom and uses the internet like an addict in a back alley. *I've got your megapixels, you got the cash?*

   I continue to do things I know I'll hate myself for, things that are proven to diminish my self-worth. Is it just out of habit? Have I gotten so used to feeling disappointed in myself, to knowing that I could be better if I tried, that it's become a sick sort of comfort? Have I become too accustomed to watching who I want to be from afar, never letting her make her way out of my head? Am I insane, expecting a different outcome to occur this time around when I put off my homework until midnight the day it's due? Have I spent so long lazing in my hole of bedclothes, living by the soft glow of a computer screen, that the idea of climbing out seems like far too much work? Is it some sort of mixture?

   When I daydream about being successful, and by that I mean "doing something I could actually be proud of", the visions are always of a moment cut out from a bigger situation. I'm on stage, using every ounce of power my eyes have to pierce into the audience; I'm tearing through books as though I depend on them for survival; I'm known as that girl who just seems to know all of the things. I always skip over the part where I actually have to do work. I want to know things. Important things. Things that matter. It doesn't even matter if anybody is aware of my knowing all the things, as long as I can feel all of those stories and facts and concepts chatting to each other through tin can telephones in my brain. However, to know things, one must first learn the things.

   That's where we run into a problem. *Crash*. I do things I'll regret later. But I also don't do things, knowing I'll regret that even more later. Not reading that book destroys much more self-worth than eating that cookie. But I don't read the book. I'm too "busy". I've got essays to bullshit; labs to write on topics I refuse to take the time to remember, to learn properly. And so I make my way by scraping by. I know what you want to say: "But Riley, you get 90s, you're going to university. I wouldn't call that 'scraping by'." Yeah, well it FEELS like scraping by. I know when I've put my all into something. If I haven't, I will very well consider it "scraping by", thank you very much. I want to get by on skill, not just a handful of talent that I never had to work for.

   I think that's what it is. The feeling of not doing something I know I could do if I put the effort in and exerted a little will power. The feeling of not doing something as well as I'm capable. My brain feels soft. It needs some extra stuffing. If it doesn't get it, regret will try to stuff its way in. It needs to stop. Life doesn't have time hold your regrets; its hands are already full.