Notes to Self:Mature

^!!*s 'N Giggles, is all.

Dear Self,

I hate it when I tell not to say stupid things like, "God Damn!" or "What the Hell?" to your very new and super Mormon employer - and then you turn around and go say them anyway; grow the fuck up already...

I hate looking at you these days. We've been together so long that the sight of you repulses me unfailingly; I wish you'd  at least act like you care about your appearance...

I hate how you pretend to have such a high opinion of yourself in your moments amongst other people - you're so transparent and fake; I know the how you really feel...

I hate the life that you live, and its boredom; you should really think about getting out way more often.

I hate your stupid "profession" and how it makes you believe that you'll actually amount to something one day; wake up and come back to reality....

I hate how fucking stupid you have been for believing, for having faith in what turned out to be more bullshit; how can you be so blind?

I hate your enormous heart and the vast emptiness within; it's like a vacant lot without a home built there - taking up perfectly good space as an eyesore.

The End

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