Dear Privilege,

"Always speak your heart, sometimes- speak your mind, if necessary, use words."

Evidently this ordeal is stacking up to be a little less than productive. There's little point in trying to speak with the dead unless you're a medium. And I gave that kind of thing up long ago.

There are some who are under the illusion that I am trying to make some kind of a point. To you I say, get over yourselves. I'm not doing this for or because of you. I'm doing this for me. To save myself a lot of uneccessary crap. This is not a pride issue, this is not me seeing how long I can arrogantly hold out and not speak while you all roll your eyes and snicker at my immaturity. This is an issue of disgust. I'm exhausted with speaking, with explanation, with mindless, needless conversation. Jess? You and I have great conversations, they're not mindless, they're not needless, they make very little sense sometimes but they lift spirits... That is the kind of speech I will keep. Elsewhere there is little talk of this nature left in this world. Much less local surroundings. There are also some who believe that I have a fetish involving pain. There are actually thos who believe that I like it when people hate me. They believe that I do what I've done because I enjoy the idea of being guilty of crime, and deserving of hate. ... Wow. That is almost the most stupid and incoherent assumption I have ever heard in my life. Almost... I'd love to have a perfect life. I'm not accustomed to people hating me and I don't enjoy it. That's absurd. Not because I'm selfish, or snobbish or think that people shouldn't hate me. I'll accept whatever judgement another human being has against me. I know that there is a reason that that judgement, intentional or not, has been made. 90% of the time I know that reason full and well. Great. So crawl all over my back because for every single time its happened, I don't whine about it. Go ahead and assume that since every time someone blames something on me and I don't fight it, that I must enjoy it. Go ahead and believe that I love pain, I obviously must because every time something like this happens, I never retaliated, except once... And now that I finally have. Its too much for everyone, and I must be crazy. And I must love being blamed... Take a sanity pill, sit down, think about the words coming out of your mouth, and then shut up.

There was once a girl named Alyssa who told me in a letter that she wanted to see me angry, my 'angry side.' She said that after I told her that it takes a heck of a lot to get me angry. A true statement. An understatement. She said she wanted to see that side of me because it was a part of me. And she wanted to know every part, not just the peaceful side. Congratulations. You finally pulled it off. Wasn't quite the enlightening experience you were looking for was it? For a small period, just a matter of hours. I was angry. I became very, very angry. And I did in fact retaliate. I posted something that should have sat unmentioned. I should have let it, like everything else that ever happened between us, go, without a second thought. But I was... mad. I took the object of my anger and I threw it into public view. A few hours later, when I calmed down. I realized the potential that this thing could pose. Realized that I didn't want that. All I wanted was out. Hours after having gone up, the post went down. Too late though... thirty five hits and no going back, my little explosion had already blown its supply of shrapnel. I regret it okay? I regret it... For once in my life, out of everything that has happened in the last two years... I act on anger, and everyone freaks out. Look in the freaking mirror. That means all of you. Every last one of you. Ogle... you especially. Your temper is out of control.

Honesty blows doesn't it? Brutally honest, otherwise known as a lack of tact? Yeah, we'll call it that. Dang this feels like rain... Its been a while since I ranted. Its been a while since I surrendered myself to utter disgust. such a thing prompting such a slew of... emotion. People say they like it back when I pretended to be a decent human being. Yeah, that was before I let emotion control me. Did I love? Yeah, I did. And you know, it was beautiful, its the most beutiful thing on earth. But even that, even that I never allowed to control me in any direction that I didn't feel was appropriate. That saved so much pain and heartache I can't even begin to count the times... screw it. "What are you thinking?" they all scream. "Why would you do this?" One: get this straight. None of us are without fault. As far as I know, I'm the only one that bothers to admit these things. Which makes me the bad guy. Two: That had nothing to do with what I was thinking. I merely felt it. And in a mindless anger I- yes, did a thing I wish I could erase. Three: I really have less of a problem with some people than I do others. Take Richard for example. I respect the guy greatly, probably more than most of the people wrapped up in this great big ball of crap. He carries himself through all of this with a silent dignity and a self-respect and an honest effort at keeping everything contained and peaceful. I respect him a great deal for that. An incredible amount... There are others however for which I have lost a great deal of respect, and a great deal of concern. Alyssa. I knew someone once named Alyssa. Wow, I loved her. When she died. Yeah, it killed me. And I finally realized that I could relate to her mother. What a hellish mindblowing revelation it must have been to realize that her daughter was an entirely new person, and that the old one, that one that existed before, was forever gone. I don't know who this new person is. I honestly have very little desire to get to know her.

I've apparently been hanging out with quite the 'wrong crowd' as a stodgy adult would say. I get it now. Peer pressure... people changing each other, changes in one person make changes in everyone they know which changes everyone that they know. Its pretty much unavoidable. So I'm severing a lot of ties. Dismantling a lot of worlds... Dying... to a lot of people. Why don't I speak? I don't want to get to know anyone that I thought I knew before. I don't want to be a part of that crowd, that world, that... change. I don't want it. To all of you... goodbye.

- monsterbox