I’d liked to question why you see me as a villain but now that I am thinking, I can not imagine it being your intention. I’d feel like I’d be projecting my absurdity and the putrid punk I’ve been keeping inside would scream accusations and fuck up the coping mechanism you’ve been delicately devising to hide away. I called it pathetic. I call it pathetic! The woes you’ve been sweeping aside! Why don’t you just lay it on the table and deal? Lay it on the table and deal! Deal! Deal! Make it real! Genuinely I am angry and I feel phoney and I blame the phonies for making me phoney. I’m conflicted by my lucid contradictions and why my mind ain’t so fluent to y’all. I think I’ve baffled my sense of identity.