In my conscience, I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers anyone else to rail about me...
Congreve, William
In the past year or so I’ve gone through phases where I want to equally shoot, hug, soothe or detach myself completely from you. Yes you, my darling. You seem to creep up wherever I go and run amock in not just my life but in the life of my friends. You make me wish I could be more assertive than I currently am (which would technically turn me into a b* but who cares?). you make me want to slap my friends when they “go through things” but by virtue of the fact that I’ve known them for so long, I realize these “things” are caused by you. Baggage you’re definitely not a pal. You’re a sadistic being that causes more pain than any form of happiness. You come along when people are forming memories and the worst part about it is, you latch on with nary a ‘hey, how you doing?’. You’re like that witch I read about who tricked a warrior into carrying on his back because he had learned respect at an early age and didn’t realize you’d grab hold for dear life and wear him out. Because that’s what you do. You wear me out and you wear my friends and family out and you’re just no good.
You turn normally interesting people into blabbering fools and idiots. You make informed, knowledgeable (INTELLIGENT) people start retarded fights…
I honestly HATE and dislike you for what you have done and I hereby denounce you. Good riddance!
