No. Not you Blue’s Clue’s Steve. But I’m not done with you yet (apparently). Seriously Karina, you just made me question half of my existence. Is this the twilight zone as fuck or what? Guys. Steve isn’t even dead? And then I went and actually looked this up and I’m baffled. Like how did I NOT do this before? I feel like a total idiot!Steve is ALIVE!!!
But back to you ACTUAL Steve, to whom this hate-letter was meant for…
There’s a question which has grabbed ahold of me tightly. It’s flowing like a harpoon in my mind, daily and nightly and it’s killing my brain like a poisonous mushroom. So let’s get quick to the point, to the point no faking. (I don’t eat bacon so I won’t be cooking any MC’s like a pound of them nor have I ever heard a real-life cymbal so I’m not sure if I’d go crazy if I ever heard one…have I lost you already?!) Perfect.
If I had a penny for every single time I’ve whispered “what the FUCK” to myself by the end of any day-
I’d be rich. I’d be able to pay off my credit cards. I’d be able to half-ass-afford my own Starbucks addiction without willingly overdrawing my bank account-I don’t think you’ve been able to grasp the “realness” of my caffeine struggles guys.
I hate how no matter the time or day
your parking lots are overcrowded;
And by the time I find a space
from my scalp, 4 new grey hairs have sprouted.
If there were a way to capture a screenshot of what’s happening inside of my fucking head right now, I’m positive it would be immediately flagged as inappropriate content and banned by whoever those prick-people are who have actual jobs judging what gets banned from social media. It would look like a fucking battlefield-except there would be no bodies nor blood-only wounded thoughts: some shattered into millions of fragments, desperately dragging their amputated, decapitated bodies in every direction-never to make any sense; some held captive as prisoners in shackles by the enemy- Denial; some are innocent children-abandoned, confused, and seeking purpose; some are cowards-hiding from their own shadows…too terrified of what would happen to them if they stood up for themselves. A brutally poetic setting, I can assure you.
Ok ok ok. I’ve told a little white fib. It’s going to be more like 50 things. But I wouldn’t have dared smuggle “50” anything into the title because such a choice would have doomed this post the *Rue of the Blogger Games. And we all know the odds were not in her favor.