Black is white and white is black

My hands are stained red, my breath is short, my eyes are focused, my mind is blurred; everything is mixing together, there is no distinguishing lines from what is acceptable and what is not. For me, it all blends together in one stew of life. The wrong doesn’t seem so wrong anymore but circumstantial based on numerous variables while the right follows in the same manner; what seemed right before no longer seems right, not entirely anyway. It may not have been right to be aggressive but holding it for this long….my pot was bound to overflow eventually. My regret though is that the wrong person was present at that time and not the one who should have been.