I used to think that self-destruction was the only way to go, and that being a teenager was about denying the comfortable parts of life. Anyone who was “safe” was bland to me and the friends I sought out. But now I realize that self-destruction is boring and that those “bland” people are better off than the ones who arbitrarily seek ways to flame out.

I never used to understand how people could live such calm and steady lives, devoid of any exciting calamity. I used to call them sellouts, just because they were fine with not being angry at the world. But the truth is, I never had any real reasons for being angry. Devoting my time to chasing negative emotions was just as boring a rut as never venturing outside your comfort zone.

I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize this, but I’m glad I finally did. ♦