What I have to say is actually very simple.
I love you.
Yes, you.
You who are reading this.
I love you
Whoever you are, I love you.
You might think to yourself “How could you love me when I am this dull being?”
“All I do is wake up, breathe, go to work, go to bathroom, go out to lunch, finish work, go back home, eat dinner, go to sleep and repeat the cycle.”
But I still love you.
I love you because when I look at you you remind me of that apartment full of lit rooms. Lit rooms full of people living lives that wasn’t mine. Lives that could never be mine. Lives that I have to spend all my life to wonder about, write about, speculate about, think about, envy about, and finally come to terms that that is your life, and no matter how much I want it I could never have it.
I love looking at you while going to work. I love looking at you when you work, I love you when you are back home, I love you when you go to sleep.
Live the way you are, you are perfect.
I love you because you remind me of how much I want to be a part of this world. You see, sometimes I feel like I am a child who is so starved for love and attention that I am turning into a child of neglect, ribs sticking out from horrible malnutrition, eyes bulging out looking for someone who would look at me, and arms forever stretched out to be held.
And in you, I see ray of hope that maybe I could still be a part of this world, because you are looking at me.
Sister piece to above:
I hate you.
And that should be enough to let you know how I feel, but no it’s really hard to get this through to your pea brain through that thick skull, isn’t it?
You want me to spell it out for you?
Alright, here, look at my mouth. I’ll talk slow so even a retard like you can understand.
I H A T E Y O U
God, why are you making me waste my time making you understanding this. I should sue you for taking away the time I’ll never get back.
Christ, it makes me want to cry when I think all that I could be doing instead of talking to you.
Breathing up all the air that should go to some other people who deserves to breathe more than you, taking up apace where others could make better use of it, using up clothing materials so others have to live in poverty, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Just living and standing there like you don’t have a fucking clue, Christ you make me sick.
Seriously, the only cure for you would be to sell all your belongings, go out into the wilderness and either get eaten by the wild animals or die and become a fertilizer for the vegetation. And come back as a dog. At least dogs are lovelier than you.
I love you.
Yes, you.
You who are reading this.
I love you
Whoever you are, I love you.
You might think to yourself “How could you love me when I am this dull being?”
“All I do is wake up, breathe, go to work, go to bathroom, go out to lunch, finish work, go back home, eat dinner, go to sleep and repeat the cycle.”
But I still love you.
I love you because when I look at you you remind me of that apartment full of lit rooms. Lit rooms full of people living lives that wasn’t mine. Lives that could never be mine. Lives that I have to spend all my life to wonder about, write about, speculate about, think about, envy about, and finally come to terms that that is your life, and no matter how much I want it I could never have it.
I love looking at you while going to work. I love looking at you when you work, I love you when you are back home, I love you when you go to sleep.
Live the way you are, you are perfect.
I love you because you remind me of how much I want to be a part of this world. You see, sometimes I feel like I am a child who is so starved for love and attention that I am turning into a child of neglect, ribs sticking out from horrible malnutrition, eyes bulging out looking for someone who would look at me, and arms forever stretched out to be held.
And in you, I see ray of hope that maybe I could still be a part of this world, because you are looking at me.
Sister piece to above:
I hate you.
And that should be enough to let you know how I feel, but no it’s really hard to get this through to your pea brain through that thick skull, isn’t it?
You want me to spell it out for you?
Alright, here, look at my mouth. I’ll talk slow so even a retard like you can understand.
I H A T E Y O U
God, why are you making me waste my time making you understanding this. I should sue you for taking away the time I’ll never get back.
Christ, it makes me want to cry when I think all that I could be doing instead of talking to you.
Breathing up all the air that should go to some other people who deserves to breathe more than you, taking up apace where others could make better use of it, using up clothing materials so others have to live in poverty, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Just living and standing there like you don’t have a fucking clue, Christ you make me sick.
Seriously, the only cure for you would be to sell all your belongings, go out into the wilderness and either get eaten by the wild animals or die and become a fertilizer for the vegetation. And come back as a dog. At least dogs are lovelier than you.
