Oops, word vomit.

Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever
regret - Ambrose Bierce.

Venting. Oh man. Have I done a lot of THAT these last couple weeks- to Siraj, to Sandra, to anybody who was willing to listen, really. It's terrible- how I can get so worked up about things. How I think it over and over again till it starts to frustrate me more than it did at the beginning. I guess I could say that it was just because I really cared- that it was understandable because I was hurt. But honestly, sometimes I feel that my "venting" isn't worth defending. Plus, no one really likes to hear people vent -_____-.

Venting feels like vomitting. "Word vomitting." It comes out when I don't expect it. And even worse, it comes up meaner and nastier then I intend it to be. Venting never really helps me. It does for that one brief moment- but I regret it the next minute. Half (if not all of it) is usually something I don't mean. I don't know why we people do that- say one thing, when we really mean to say the opposite.

I've been dragging this way longer than I should have been. I'm done with my complaining and I'm done with my blaming. I'm finished now.

It's weighing on my conscious- and even though I'm admitting it now I know it doesn't make it anymore "justified" or makes me any "bigger" as a person. But, even if it counts for nothing, I will say this:

To the person that I vented about (even though you'll probably never read this or never know what I said), I'm sorry.

A quote for thought:
“For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of
mind.”