An Elegant Solution for Keeping Track of Reality

I thought I was ready for it but now that it's here, I'm too sad to move.

I had a dream I was needed as a substitute for a soccer game. We were playing your team... the team I used to be on. She had taken my place, obviously. And you guys were good, like you always had been, but I single handedly kicked your asses (still trying to work that one out myself). Afterward, your friends, who used to be my friends, came to talk to me. They told me you felt there were things left unfinished, that I was still a source of pain... I told them I understood, and I do. To tell you to come talk to me when you were ready. So I thought I would write this, in case you stumbled across my blog, like I know you do from time to time, to tell you that yes, I do think of you every once in a while, that I wonder how you're doing.... and to tell you that you can reach out to me, when you're feeling ready, if you don't hate me... because even the bitterness has faded into curiosity for me at this point.

How about you ask me what you want to know instead of checking up on my Tumblr every so often. #its2017getoverme

I can't tell if I'm sick of him doing this to me or if I'm just making up excuses for myself.

Pretty fucking pissed. Seriously if there should be any guest artist, which there shouldn't be because it's so fucking unprofessional.... but whatever. It's cool guys. What the fuck ever.