Mean things I can’t tell my least-favourite coworker cause it would be hurtful and I’d feel bad
Sometimes the things you get worked up and angry about are so utterly inconsequential that they make me imagine a time before written language where I may have been carried off and eaten by leopards as a small child, and I feel a kind of strange longing
Do you ever want more from life or is this genuinely it for you
You give off the perpetual aura of a distant relative’s small and untrained dog which may either let you pet it or suddenly maul you with little to no warning at the drop of a hat and because of this whenever I see you nearby I can feel my asscheeks clench so if you could maybe wear a hat or vest of some kind to indicate whether or not you are in a bad mood I would greatly appreciate it
I have difficulty imagining you as a child. You are entirely without wonder or whimsy. I imagine you once broke off as a slab of granite from the side of a mountain and slid into an employment office where you remained for years until someone dressed you in a uniform as a joke and brought you to life exactly as you are like an irritable corporate Frosty the Snowman
My determination to treat others with kindness confronted with your determination to see only the worst in all my actions constantly forces me to reevaluate my moral principals in a way that is much like a crisis of religious faith, as though your existence were a tangible proof that God was never real
I cannot imagine that you are happy the way that you are. I want to believe that you are, but all evidence available indicates otherwise. Are you like this because you are suffering, or are you suffering because you are like this
Do you ever wonder about life beyond our constructed social prison. Do you ever find yourself gazing skyward in the rain. Have you ever felt tempted to get off the bus in the middle of nowhere on your way to work just to see what happens
I am glad that you are older than me because I think that if I wait long enough you may retire so I no longer have to work with you without something terrible happening to either of us
Do you ever think about how you’re gonna die someday or do you just perpetually live in the precise moment wherein whatever obstacle in front of you is at once both entirely novel and the most infuriating thing in all of existence, like a baby with no object permanence trapped in a revolving door
I’m going to be near you for the minimal amount of time required to accomplish this one task and if you could just pretend I don’t exist for that duration I think we’d both prefer that
