To Whom It May Concern:
You are an ass.
You are also easily one of the most paranoid people I have ever met, and the lack of trust you displayed in me is fucking staggering.
Had you thought about any of this for a goddamn second, you would have realized that it all amounts to less than a hill of beans. If you had bothered to read my journal, you would have seen that it is all old news, and that it was nothing to concern yourself with.
But you don't want to read. Nor do you want to ask. You just want to live in the Town of Denial (population: YOU) and act like a fucking coward and pack my shit up before you had the balls to tell me things were done. That's fine. It's your bed, you make it. And you sleep in it.
It's not my fault your life is fucked up right now, and it won't be my fault in the future, when you find someone else to replay this drama with over again. Just as I was a repeat of Drummer John, someone else will be a repeat of me. And so on, and so on, ad nauseum.
It might have helped if you had told me some really important shit before we got too deep into things, but that would have been inconvenient. I'm sure this hurts less now, though. So much better to leave these things until the end.
I truly hope you have a good life. You deserve it. I don't think you'll find it, though, at least not in your present state of mind.
As for me and my life...well, you can read all about it in the months to come. You know how to find things out, don't you? And you're very good at drawing your own (albeit WRONG) conclusions about stuff that you know less than nothing about.
You are an ass.
You are also easily one of the most paranoid people I have ever met, and the lack of trust you displayed in me is fucking staggering.
Had you thought about any of this for a goddamn second, you would have realized that it all amounts to less than a hill of beans. If you had bothered to read my journal, you would have seen that it is all old news, and that it was nothing to concern yourself with.
But you don't want to read. Nor do you want to ask. You just want to live in the Town of Denial (population: YOU) and act like a fucking coward and pack my shit up before you had the balls to tell me things were done. That's fine. It's your bed, you make it. And you sleep in it.
It's not my fault your life is fucked up right now, and it won't be my fault in the future, when you find someone else to replay this drama with over again. Just as I was a repeat of Drummer John, someone else will be a repeat of me. And so on, and so on, ad nauseum.
It might have helped if you had told me some really important shit before we got too deep into things, but that would have been inconvenient. I'm sure this hurts less now, though. So much better to leave these things until the end.
I truly hope you have a good life. You deserve it. I don't think you'll find it, though, at least not in your present state of mind.
As for me and my life...well, you can read all about it in the months to come. You know how to find things out, don't you? And you're very good at drawing your own (albeit WRONG) conclusions about stuff that you know less than nothing about.
hahah
rough time i had for a bit..
sorry about your ahhhhhh ?? experience?