“And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland, or sells love to another man”
– Ed Sheeran –
I’m no angel. I want to think that I am capable of analyzing a situation and logically weighing up the pros and cons of a decision. Yet often, there’s something about the thrill of living on the edge that transcends logic. I’m always drawn to follow my impulses that they become the driving force behind the excruciatingly painful self-contemplations at midnight. Why am I attracted to something, knowing that it will cause me pain? What is it about the immediate reward from doing something wicked that entices me to overlook the obvious aftermath of such action? Am I so emotionally damaged that I’m required to do things to the extreme to make myself feel alive? To quote a popular pop song by David Guetta, “why does it feel so good to be bad?”
