terry, doll
October 11th, 2009thinking of you as a sick, spoiled, only child
makes it utterly easy to me to understand
why you do lack of principles, of boundaries, and of measure.
why you need to be playing a game, in order to know the rules – in order to have rules.
no one ever gave some to you- no one ever explained (and made it final) that what you do has serious consequences,
they just kept taking care of the mess you made, getting rid of your stinky garbage,
as if you never did anything wrong- as if the fault was always everybody else’s
even the pot that pushed himself off the shelf, in a magic suicidal attempt.
and guess who grew with other people covering their muddy footprints?
you even told me of a person like this, like it was somebody else and not you.
you told me “she’s awfully rich, so her parents can pay advocates and all and she’s never punished for what she does”
it makes you proud, doesn’t it?
that you can permit your filthy self such a priceless luxury while others are called to pay for their misdeeds.
well, let me tell you that:
there’s another, cheaper, game you could play to – it’s called real life.
it’s tougher than the one you’re accustomed to, and certainly a lot less fun.
it’s risky (no safe word), and most players suck so much you’d want to beat them to death- but you just can’t.
I get it why you loathe it, really I do- it is because you can’t quit. you can’t go back in time and make other choices- or delete your profile, or find a new playmate when you got bored of your usual one.
and no one is ever there to save your ass when you need it.
but it’s the most thrilling thing you will ever find.
to play by the rules, and still win.
cheating like this, pretending to be playing but doing so in your little nest made of pancackes
just makes you a big fat loser.
and that’s all there is to it.