ceciliatan

Mirrored from the latest entry in Daron's Guitar Chronicles.

You know how in cartoons they often depict someone having an internal debate by putting an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other? And the little angel and devil each puts forth their argument?

I didn’t have an angel and a devil on my shoulders. I had two pathetic, ineffectual weak versions of myself. One of them was saying the following: what the hell is wrong with you? you’ve got people who love you downstairs, you’re strong, you’re over that shit, you’re talented, you’re good-looking, people like you, you wrote a hit song, girls faint when they see you, hot men would line up for you if you let them…

The other one was saying oh shit oh shit fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What the fuck is wrong with me, indeed.