It's not about the tartar sauce!!!

Today, I accidentally tore the left sleeve of my fleece jacket, then I felt that finally the jacket can be officially called my own, cuz I have done some damage to it. If some random guy grab it and claim it's his, I would just say, it's mine, cuz there is slit on the left sleeve, that's my signature there. Why do we always hurt the ones we love? when they are the only ones who care. and why do we go around and claim things as our own when we actually own nothing in this world, not even our life. Oh well, seems I started the semester on the wrong foot, everything hasn't gone the way I wanted it to be, disappointments accumulated over days, weeks, and months, to a point today, 11:02 am to be exact, that I really wanted to cry. So I did, a passerby looked at me and asked, "did something get into your eyes?" I smiled and nodded, but what I really mean to say is that, "it's not about the tartar sauce, it's about me."