Dear Me,
Grow the fuck up. I'm tired of your laziness. I'm tired of your angry jealousies and petty thoughts. I'm tired of your fat reflection. If I have to listen to one more excuse of why you can't do what you want with your life...or why you can't even begin to live your life...I'm going to throw up. All over you. Your deceptions are tired and your lies unbelievable. Your shallowness underlines your obsessive fixation with the material. What the fuck is wrong with you that no one else can be happy and going ahead with their lives and do creative wonderful things...that every time you see such things or learn of them, it sends you into a whiny spiral of self recriminations. If you don't step your lame ass up to the plate of life soon, you're going to strike out...and remain the same thing you are right now for the rest of your pathetic existence: a complete loser.
Sincerely,
Me
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