and I don't have too many tough times
There are times when I have to allow myself to be overtaken by grief; the harder it swallows me up, the more eroded I come out, and this self-destruction is beautiful. But that is easy. That takes little effort. It is no challenge to wallow in hate, to soak it up and hold it in, because it is so abundant, everywhere. What is rare is bliss; what is difficult is allowing oneself to absorb glee despite the constant reminder that it is fleeting. If you can catch it, for however long, well, then, fuck yeah.
it tastes just like water