July 21st, 2003
You stopped being interesting the day you were born and it's all been downhill from there. You've been ruining my life for such a long time I can't tell any more if there was a time before you. I could injure you, but that would be counterproductive. I try drugging you, but the results are limited at best. Why the hell won't you ever leave me alone? You know I dream daily of spraying you across the landscape, but that's unreasonable as well, which is just a flip-flop because the unreasonable is your domain.
The worst part is living under the knowledge that one day, you're going to win.
|Date:||July 21st, 2003 08:29 am (UTC)|| |
It's so frustrating for me to see messages like this in general, but especially so after watching you and Ethan Coen provide a fine evening of entertainment on Friday.
You don't get to stop being interesting until the day you die, and even then, any of us that are still alive will think the memory of you more interesting than many other meat puppets still walking around.
|Date:||July 21st, 2003 12:32 pm (UTC)|| |
I would have to agree with Bilal.
While I did not witness your performance the other night, I have witnessed similar from you. Those events add a great deal of needed life to an otherwise mundane world.
This added life doesn't even begin to touch upon the amazing friendship, loyalty, support and guidance that you have shown me and others throughout the time we've known you. Many of us would be significantly lesser people if it weren't for your involvment in our lives. And while I'm not going to ignore the fact that sooner or later mortality comes for us all, I would have to say, on my behalf and the behalf of many others, I would prefer to see your end postponed as long as possible.
I read the message more at face value... not quite so introverted as all that.
On the chance that I'm right, I'd like to state something that I have slowly come to learn.
Nobody defeats anyone else. If anyone wins, it's because they're playing their own game.
So what if your adversary wins? You don't have to play his game. As much as you may think you do, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PLAY HIS GAME. (And, as per my usual tendency to have a caveat: her game either. Whoever's game, pardon my odd grammar.)
Not that I'm trying to get pedantic on you here, because both you and I are experts at playing the "Yes, But" excuse game, and if you told me the same thing that I've just told you, I'd have a million excuses and an attitude.
So for once, at the risk of coming across as a prick, I'm going to lay it on the line.
Don't play anyone's game but your own.