And your point is…?

If you think you’re teaching me a lesson, you’re not. If you think you’re only doing what’s best and are completely justified with any psuedo-authority you might have over me, you’re completely fucking wrong.

Then again, maybe I’m in the wrong. For doing the same thing I always fucking do, which up until now, you were able to take with a grain of salt. Yes, I’ll admit, some people can’t handle or understand the way I work and quid pro quo they become offended. I like to think that I can tell the difference between these people and people who to some extent understand or at least can reasonably handle me. Sorry, my sincerest apologies, really truly and deeply, for thinking that you were one of them. I must be some kind of idiot.

Right now, if I wanted, I could be arguing you back point by point, and maybe I wouldn’t win per se, but at least you’d understand some of the gross misconceptions you’ve alleged of me. Honestly, I don’t think I have the willpower to do that. I’m tempted to take your name off that stupid fucking list that I didn’t know about until YESTERDAY and never email you again. I wouldn’t fucking regret it, not at this point. Because I made a silly mistake of trusting you. Sorry, again. It’s really all my fault. I guess I’m just too fucking naive to understand the line between authority and guidance.

I think what really upsets me about this whole thing is your hypocrisy in all this. I could be reading this all wrong but I’m definitely not mistaken when I see the date the email was sent. I appreciate your promptness, asshole. Next time call the fucking Pony Express, they’ll deliver it faster than you can reply to a fucking e-mail. Now I know you’re sort of old and this e-mail thing might be a bit new to you, but the whole point of it really is that it’s fucking INSTANT. So yes, when I send you an email on one day, I expect that you’ll read it on that day, and maybe reply within the next two or three. Should have known it’d be more like a week, or is it two now?

I used to worship you. I wanted to be like you, because you really inspired me to do better. Now, all I can think is fuck you and your stupid ties, which you only own about three of! I guess the salvation army was having a three-for-one deal! And you can take that fucking toy and shove it up your ass!

I’m being childish, immature, and honestly I don’t care. Because this felt good. This felt so damn good.

And I know you’re not going to read this, ever. And even if you do I won’t need to apologize because these are words that mean next to nothing. If you really want me to apologize, I will, but it sure as hell won’t be sincere, because I can’t change what’s already done, and it’s done. You know me, I don’t think about future implications or consequences of my actions. Or maybe I do think about it, and I just really can’t be fucked to care all that much about them.

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