I am a pessimist. Isn’t that the first step to recovery? I am admitting that there is a problem, and it is this mentality that everything I touch turns to fucking shit.
Logical Kelsey looks at that statement and goes, “Are you fucking serious? You cannot be that responsible for the world’s problems. Ease the fuck up, bitch.”
On a related tangent, if you are super sensitive to explicit language, I would like to politely request that you seek another blog to entertain yourself. I don’t want to be reported for my self-expression, and I don’t want you uncomfortable. So if we can just go our separate ways before we offend each other, that would be great.
Ok, now that my little fucking disclaimer is typed out, I will get back to my whole “I’m way too hard on myself” tirade. It’s not really a tirade, because I don’t think you can really go full-on tirade while listening to “25” (Side note- I don’t give a fuck that this album is 1 1/2 years old. Adele is always relevant to life). Maybe it’s more of a “call to action” type of thing. It’s as though I am saying, “Hey Kels, you’re a pessimist and it’s not helpful. Be helpful because you have to spend the rest of your life with yourself.”
I’m writing this blog in an attempt to figure my own shit out. There’s a lot of it, and I am sick of swimming in it. Shit really does get old, and it doesn’t really smell or feel better with age.
So welcome to the shit removal process. I could also call it the “shit filter,” if I keep with the pool metaphor. Maybe we can actually have a pool party once I stop swimming in this damn filth. With that “dad joke” level comment, I am going to end it here. My sassy ass will return soon to continue this process.