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PAST SELF: THIS IS FOR YOU.SUP SELF.
I'm assuming that you're probably 15 or 16 years old upon receiving this letter, which is good, because I have MUCH TO DISCUSS WITH YOU YOU HILARIOUS, HILARIOUS CHILD.
So I've been reading the HSJNTs recently just to look back on the old days (the present). You have a lot of them now. You might be proud of being on the v3 or the v4 at this point, but dude… keep writing them things, because they will provide your future self with much entertainment later on. xD
Now before we get too mushy here, I just want to say that you are a huge beast. Not even kidding. You're extremely cool, and all of those douchebags in Forsy's class and the morons who like to put their feet up under your desk in various classes and people who don't see how amazing you are are just a bunch of nogmosters that you shouldn't even concern yourself with. After high school, you will literally never see any of them again (as far as I know, anyway. I'm [you're] only 20 right now so who knows.). Also, you pretty
A Question of WorthA Question of Worth
i'm begging myself to give up.
i'm begging you to pretend.
the wash of days, the pain of
your eyes, is poisonous.
i am furious. i want to loathe you.
i am heartbroken. i only want love.
the burden of these emotions
seems to be rotting me away.
i wish i could have saved myself.
i wish i would have ignored it:
the cascading volume of your
voice: like a stereo in my memory.
i've been running in place, my love,
and you've begun to resemble a curse
rather than a sweet opportunity.
please, someone end this hurt.
hatred begins to plague me.
if i can't love you, anger will help
to cleanse your rubble from my heart.
you're not worth it. you're not worth it.
Happy RebirthdayHappy Rebirthday
you said no.
i finally stood up
from the shadows,
and you said no.
we were on the eve
of a glorious morn.
now our morning
is my mourning.
my hands shook
and my gaze averted
from the deep pools
of your sacred eyes.
and as you made
no move to stop,
i followed you to the
door. it closed on me.
the answers aren't real.
you haven't given me all
of what i wanted yet.
i demand a better ending.
i am so tired of the drag
and drop of the sun
through the days i wait
for you to come around.
oh yeah. oh yeah."
fade. a new song begins.
Classics of the UnrequitedClassics of the Unrequited
unreachable one of my tortured heart,
don't mock me with your glances.
when our eyes meet, there is only less
hope in my head left for us.
i've come to see that behind my planning,
behind the "maybe" and the "tomorrow",
i am deathly afraid of you. so please,
come to me only with affection.
this is my second winter of hunting.
you are gorgeous, my prey. you are wild.
and through the ivory, clouded winds,
my hands tremble only to hold you.
it's too cliché, isn't it? perfect in flaw.
you're the football player with your pack
of ravenous little minions: friends,
and i am alone.
and so i wait. and i watch. and i wait.
the days filter through the hallway windows
and rest their heads on the pains panes.
my cold, dry patience fades to hopelessness.
deep beneath it all, i know it won't end well.
i know you're going to tear my heart
and leave me forever unrequited.
i know that one day i will despise you.
do you even care?
why is it t
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