159: Breathe Me

(Breathe me by Sia)

Sigh...

I swear my iPod can sense my mood. It's like a mood ring. Hell, my iPod is a moodPod. An evening spent chatting with a friend leaves me from being greatly melancholic to slightly melancholic.

Help,
I have done it again
I have been here many times before,
Hurt myself again today,
And the worst part is there's no-one else to blame.

Why is it that when one part of your life goes well another part falls apart?

Be my friend,
Hold me, wrap me up,
Unfold me.
I am small, I'm needy,
Warm me up,
And breathe me.

Seriously, breathe me. I don't smell bad.

Ouch,
I have lost myself again,
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah, I think that I might break,
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe.

Maybe MyHeritage.com has a point when it says I resemble Asahara. I do suffer from some sort of messianic complex, where I feel I must take a lot more responsibility for events that, even though they're out of my control, somehow affect me, where I become a martyr. Seriously, if I hadn't coughed after I've returned home from a private lesson class I taught at back in Japan and turned on the TV to see the Twin Towers on fire, those towers would still be standing! I'm sorry. I am horrible. It was in bad taste. I take full responsibility for being so stupid. See, even my personality DNA, Part Deux, tells me that I've a high agency, "agency" defined as "how much you believe you determine your own outcomes. High means you believe that you have control over your life. Low means you believe that other factors—such as chance, fate, and powerful others—influence your life."

Be my friend,
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me.
I am small, I'm needy,
Warm me up,
And breathe me.

Seriously, breathe me. I don't smell bad. Well, maybe my breath.