At what point do you just bite your tongue and finally let go? At what point do you wash your hands of a situation and say "It's your funeral?" And when it all goes to shit, like you know it will, can you resist the urge to rub a nose in it and say "I told you so. A hundred times, I told you so."
It's just so frustrating to see friends walk down a path that you can't follow and pull them back. People don't want to hear: "I've been there, I've lived that, please listen to me."
It's frustrating to be asked those questions and not have the answer that is wanted to be heard versus what needs to be heard.
In less stupid and insipid veins... grave maker was super fun. Ill Intent is super good. The blastomat is hot, and I remember why summer shows rule...you leave covered in sweat that is not your own. And that's only a little sarcastic.
I made delicious lasagna for Ashley J and I tonight. Girl date.
Getting up early(ish). Bike ride, yoga, Africa blessing, church, bike ride home, nap, project.
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