It Really Was All My Fault

I watched the stars last night as I floated among the seaweed of the cold ocean waters of the Del Playa when I came to this realization: it really was all my fault.

 

Here’s how it happened. I was watching a glass wind-chime clinking in the breeze at a gift shop near Carmel beach. I was five at the time. And for some reason, I just absolutely lost it. I went completely bananas. And then nothing really was the same for me. My mother and father got a divorce three years later. There was a terrible custody battle, and my father blamed me for all of his problems. My mother never said anything, but I knew I was the one she cried about late at night.

 

Flash forward to my recent time here as a student at UCSB. Here are a list of things that are my fault:

-The Thomas Fire

-Classes Not Being Cancelled

-Flooding

-Alcoholism (in IV)

-the 2016 elections (even though I voted for Jill Stein)

-the Death of God

-IV smelling like weed

-Global warming

– Your Tinder date flaking on you last minute after you spent the last five hours shaving

 

I don’t know what it is, but disaster seems to follow in my wake. I can only hope that my problems drift away before I do.

 

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