Another night, another party

I found myself reading Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, while drinking cherry tea with cinnamon and my mind was not quite there. It is a pleasant, quiet evening, an hour to midnight and I am...just not there. I blame the exhausting hectic day full with all kinds of irritations and work, but I can also blame myself and this is the part I wanted to avoid. It is just another night like the others and I am being myself, but something is not quite right.
The good thing is that I turned out to be right, which still gives me this satisfying feeling, even though it was not the outcome I may wanted it to be. Frankly speaking, I love being right and I do everything I can to make things right. However, this kind of right is not the right I wanted, but it might be the right I need, which I cannot forseen so far. I know that I make events and people-related moments more complicated than they should be and I can prevent that from happening. Still, I find something charming in the complexity and when things get back to their simplier form, it is shortly followed by well-known disappointment. I know that I make no sense at all.
In short, I can only say that I should be smarter than this and make better use of my words.
 Yes, my actions speak for themselves and I so should have spoken less...