THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I went and visisted yesterday.
Talk about an about-face.
I don't even know what that place is.
And I hate it- I hate it so fucking badly- because it should have been mine. I was owed a place like that, and I ended up here.
And you know it.
"Maybe we can at least get one think right with your education..."
Maybe you'll do better with her.
But Jesus Christ. If I want it, it won't happen. If I don't, it will. Either way, I'll be unhappy and I'll settle.
I'll settle because that is ALL YOU TAUGHT ME TO DO. And you know, I think it's funny. You see me as an extension of yourself.
I am not.
I am not, and even I think of myself as an extension of you. Personality, morality... Maybe it's because I don't hate absolutely fucking everyone or because I'm not a manic self-loather or because I don't costantly assign belittling judgements to everyone to their face because I feel the same about myself, but I almost think it's funny. I think it's funny that I know absolutely nothing about you or about her and you know absolutely nothing about me.
I don't know anything about your lives or why you are the way you are.
And you don't even know the half of it, and you wouldn't believe me if I told you.
And you wouldn't understand about why it was good, or why it blessed me. It fucking blessed me to see what I saw and to know who I know because it saved my whole life.
Back to that school. That school.
I don't even care. I don't, I swear I don't, and I hate talking about it and I hate that other people have to know because they hate me then.
And I hate you because you won't leave me alone, you fucking psychopath.