Satire

By | 1:00 AM Leave a Comment
We should start a swear jar, except instead of swears, it's times you get pissed the fuck off at me for no good reason. Is there even a such thing as a "good reason" to be mad at someone? Or is it just your reason to be mad at someone. What the hell did I do this time: Exist? Maybe I should work on that; either get better at existing, or get better at eliminating my existence faster. 

Okay okay... I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're unhappy for whatever reason. You find ways. I applaud you, as if there wasn't enough to be depressed about in this world already? Bravo. You've finally learned how to set fire to water; just when I thought water was my only safe zone, eh? Thanks for the emotional scars, they were... How you say... Everlasting. The quality of your anger and petulance is noteworthy actually, but your delivery is becoming lousy and frankly I think it's something you ought to work on. You can do better at making me miserable. I mean... As of right now, all you ever seem to do is give me anxiety. Boohoo for my lungs. 

I dunno why your immediate response to your own assumptions are anger toward those you claim to want to protect and are supposed to "love" (whatever the fuck that word means these days). 

Honestly, though, I am extremely ecstatic to be alive during this time to be experiencing your awful wrath. You win this battle for now. That is, until I can adapt to swimming in water set ablaze. Until then, enjoy the malignant feelings you're helping me develop toward you. 

Sincerely,
Your Tennant. 

(My Letter To Life)
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