Dear Mr. Freak (an open letter to myself)

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Dear Mr. Freak (an open letter to myself)

 

You can't sing and you don't enjoy it. Let the music die.

 

You keep telling me you want to be a writer? So stop starting books you don't finish. Do you know how tired I am of you and your shit? I would rather read shitty self-deprecating diatribes like this than your shitty attempt at webcomics (Which truly my dear sir can suck my balls.)

 

What are you trying to prove? You don't want to be famous... You don't want to be happy... So what is stopping you? Why can't you turn this car around and beat my fat delusional ass into shape?

 

Get yourself in fighting form or at least quit airing your dirty laundry on this blog. None of us (and I do include me!) want to see this mediocre shit forced into the fragile peace we are trying to cultivate in our life.

 

You have never done anything we were proud of. You romanticize ignorance and cultivate depravity. Shame on you for your pathetic gothic dada BS. Close your eyes and find something to say or shut the fuck up.

 

Yours sincerely Mr you know I am right.

 

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