This
weekend has proven to me that I have absolutely no
self-control whatsoever. I decided I was not going to take
ecstasy at the
Paul Oakenfold show on Friday night for several reasons, one being my
mental health, two being my physical health, and three, what was the point of it anyway? Then of course I got with my friends and they were all going to be rolling and were like, "Come on
Christ!" and so I took a pill and rolled my brains out. I'm actually kind of glad I did it, I feel better than I did about things before I rolled, and the concert/rave was incredible, I danced my ass off and felt at one with the
crowd and the
universe around me.
Yay, drugs. But still, I need to have more self-control.
Saturday I woke up, and headed to the computer lab to work on a data structures project. Yay, programming. I was getting really frustrated because my compiler was convinced that b==r, I couldn't stand it, and I went over to a friend's house. The friend who I made a pact with, that if things ever started to head in a "more than just friends direction" we would put a stop to it, put some space between us, whatever.
It didn't work, the pact was broken. I could have stopped things when I realized they were going where they shouldn't be, but I was having fun torturing the boy with my presence. I'm evil, I know. I almost feel bad about this, when I saw how guilty he was later...knowing that I could have stopped, but didn't for my own sadistic pleasure.
But it's not like he didn't deserve it. At least he realizes that I deserve better.