(Not really a continuation of the last post. That will come soon. I think. Humour me.) Continue reading
I have always been the kind of idiot who does anything for the sake of his friends.
I end up inconvenienced, get home late, get in danger, and spend more than I would normally do
being my usual stingy self, but I don’t particularly care. As long as I know they’re happy, safe, and content, I’m good. There’s this feeling of having accomplished something worthwhile, and even though it’s supposed to be freezing outside, there’s this warm, almost giddy feeling that keeps me from feeling it. Am I weird? Even if I seem to be literally cold-blooded and am susceptible to hypothermia, during those times, my body seems to act like its biological thermometer isn’t banged up so bad that I sleep wrapped in a bloody thick blanket in the middle of a blistering hot summer night.
I guess, to some extent
even if people would normally call me the epitome of evil, I have tendency to act like a bloody selfless idiot martyr when it comes to my friends.
Tonight was a prime example of such stupidity. But I don’t regret it one bit.