I once told a girl that I could have been the best thing to ever
happen to her. She took offense to this. I mean, in my head, I
understood that the statement was true. True in that it was a
possibility. The statement “I could have been the worst thing to
ever happen to you” would have been just as true.

I think stuff like this, and realize that I probably have some sort
of social personality disorder. Then it hits me that one of the
symptoms has got to be not caring about having a social personality disorder.

I don’t know what disorder it is, but I’m comforted by the fact
that having it makes it ok to have it.

It’d be like if herpes was the cure for herpes.


P.S. I don’t have herpes.