Except that from now on I've decided that I will hurt no more people, because I'm a pacifist and I don't particularly like who I used to be, even if he isn't that much different from who I am now but that's inconsequential because I've changed, right? I'm a much better person now, right? People still... People still like me, right? Maybe it's true that people like me much better when I'm sad but that's not the point because you're supposed to still like me when I'm happy because you're supposed to want me to be happy but you want me to be sad and I hate that about you. You like me better when I'm sad. Everyone likes me better when I'm sad, because I think that murder is an okay thing, and I think that suicide is alright and I slit my wrists and pretend that nobody else has problems because I like it when my problems are bigger than everyone else's problems because I am a teenager and that's what I do. People feel like if I was always sad I'd have a better idea of the world, because when I am sad I have the strangest thoughts on people and things and life and you.
And you don't even care, because I'm not sad. I'm happy and I don't cut anymore and I don't condone suicide and I think that violence is a bad thing and I don't like drugs and I maybe don't write the same way or give as good advice or think that my problems are that big because I am a happy kid. I am a lucky boy. I have an easy life. But you don't even give a shit because you stopped being my best friend when I started being happy and stopped letting mental illness be my excuse because I was a liar when I was sad and people loved thinking I was someone I wasn't because I thought I was something I wasn't to the point where I made myself something I wasn't but that's not who I am because I live my life for myself now. And that's all that really matters, all else is sure to pass and die, the only thing that's constant in my life is that I will always be me. I will never have a more pleasant facial structure or a nicer skin tone, I will always be pale and ugly and that doesn't matter to me because I love me. And other people love me. Not everyone suddenly hates me because I'm happy, not everyone likes me better sad because I am still fully capable of writing and giving advice and caring about other people and thinking I'm God and lying and having a fucked up view of the world and the people who inhabit it and the things that we should do to make our lives just that much better for the one constant, ourselves.
So you can go suck a dick, because I'm sorry that my sadness makes you happy, but I assure you I am still a loved individual and if that's such a hard concept for you to grasp then you weren't my friend at all in the first place and I strongly regret ever knowing you, you slutty cunt.
Besides, you aren't even a real person.
You're writing is fierce, witty, and incredibly powerful, Ryan. Never forget this. I hope one day I can be just as talented as you are.
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