There’s not much to say.

It’s really kind of simple.

It’s black and white.

It’s milk and cookies (mixed with strychnine).

I kinda hate you.

I hate your oversimplification of reality, and how that in the same breath you make everything so completely complicated and dramatic. I hate how you ignored the dust bunny and always swept it under the bed; the one I made and now have to sleep in.

Here’s the irony: I can’t wait for the day that you dont pop into my head for the briefest of seconds, but when that day comes, I’ll only have realized it because I just thought of you – nullifying the moment. Its an irony I welcome and will savor on my tongue like those strawberries we savored in the summer sun.

Basically: I kinda hate you.

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