what we've made doesn't make sense

It is not that I regret the decisions that I make while under the influence of intoxicants, it is merely that I regret that the decision was made while I was in such a state.  As I once explained to a friend regarding such a situation: it is not that I regret what I said, but rather that I regret the decision to say it.  Really though, it isn't so much that I regret the decision so much as it is the case that, because the decision was made in an altered state of consciousness, I can't trust that I made the best decision, therefore I have no choice but to assume that the decision was probably a bad one.  It is nothing personal, I assure you, it is simply a personal peculiarity... A proclivity, so to speak, that helps me to make others feel bad about themselves, and me to feel masculine in my lines and symmetry, like a flashlight that uses D-cells and has segments that are detachable and hexagonal; easily manipulated towards perfection for any given situation.

In the face of doubt, however, I have no choice but to trust that the knives do have my back.  They seem trustworthy, the knives, once you get past the appearances.  Sometimes things feel right and then turn out wrong, but more frequently things look scary but turn out right in spite of themselves.

Don't let your guard down though, as sociopaths abound; they're soft inside, but they feel no pain...