thanks;giving.

it started off well enough.

and whatnot.

then i face you.

it's a problem.

i let you get to me.

the exact same way.

she still gets to me.

he still gets to me.

even in your absence.

i can't help but take it personally.

especially when you know me personally.

and my vulnerability.

but we don't really know each other.

more than any other.

i'm not your pinche anything.

so don't even think about starting that shit.

you like to draw the lines.

and i never seem to end on your side.

perhaps if you just accepted the fact.

that we all have sold out in your definition of the expression.

then you could get off your god damn soap box.

and enter reality.

such caustic hatred.

so blinding.

it's not expected.

and then you wonder.

why i'm not more "social."

the whole difference.

of self between here and there.

the i am who i want to be.

versus the world i am living in.

the funny thing is.

it's not really my reality.

and you will be gone soon enough.

onto your next adventure.

what do you have against success?

do we fear it?

why be a statistic?

there is no shame in becoming the future.

and yet you treat it like its not only impossible.

but uncomfortable.

but you crave it.

your in the wrong place if you want to fight.

you would have been better off at home.

with that thought process.

the good old shop talk.

"i hated him for his success."

"he was a betrayal to our people."

i can't understand these words.

maybe that's what separates us.