Fiction. Sing you rain.

You ever had a friend you used to be tight with and then later you don't give a damn? They stop giving a damn too and then you're unreasonably pissed off, but what's up with that, you should've seen that coming from a mile away. And after all that's over, you meet, accidentally almost, and it's so weird and yet so fitting that you no longer even feel like hurting them. Like the bitterness is gone, like the like and the love and the heart are now just online emoticons you make to each other, like there is nothing beyond a forwarded text and a set of insider jokes lying rusty for lack of opportunity. There's that relief, that you don't have to put up with That Shit anymore. Forgive me Father for I have not hated but I have stopped caring and sometimes that is infinitely worse. No going back now, says the fortune cookie. She will be loved, but frankly my dear, I don't give a flying fuck. I will and am loved, but that is a whole different ball-game and all the seats are taken already. Confucius say, If you don't know life's a bitch, get the fuck out of town. Confucius was a wise, wise man.

There. Is. Nothing. Not even the desire to kill violently.