Also: I could write you novels and it wouldn’t matter, peculiar and funny and not surprising at all that this is the fucked curve ball you’re throwing a week before I fly out to see you, such old stinking bullshit. I don’t have patience for it and I’m angry now. Who in their right mind would be excited now, huh? Who? To have to tolerate such emotional immaturity and then act as if it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t affect anything. You fucked the whole vibe up and now I don’t even care. Go mad and lonely in the desert, who the fuck would want to be stuck nursing you anyway when you treat them so callously..













