Notes to self, and others.

Dear You,

Yes, I love you. And I wish it were April's fool, whatever, because it would have been easier.
Yes, I do know you do not love me.
Yes, I do know you are not even reading this, which also makes me comfortable.

I imagined you today across the table from me and I smiled at you, and like usual, you smiled back. Your usual apologetic smile failed you, like always.

Dear Smile,

I am not sorry, why are you? How come you fail to understand I'm happy because I feel, regardless of the feeling? How come you fail to understand that my smile in return is me being euphoric, it's me laughing inside. I laugh so much inside if I let it out, it would scare them. Because laughter is from the devil.

Dear Devil,



Dear Mother,

I can't tolerate anything from you anymore simply because I'm tired of you and your stupid repetition of the same mistakes again. I am tired of your wanting to be close and talk, I am tired of it. Why? Because it leads to no-where.
I am sick of your ways that never change, and your strong belief that you actually listen, when you're the one who talks over people most.

Dear You,

How can you be scared by my anger, when you're the one who's angry but never say you are? You should be happy that I can let out so much anger that you keep inside.

Dear Me,

One day me and you will lay down on the sand and dream and say it was all worth it, it was all worth fighting for.

Dear Nuweibaa,
I am not coming. My glasses are broken.

Dear Glasses,
Everyone/Everything dies.