For a long while I've always thought myself to be the poison but lately, I've been considering the possibility that, maybe, you're bad news. The typicality of such a behaviour is starkly banal it's unfathomable why I hadn't picked it up earlier. Surely, from now on I must be cognisant of your easy, boyish insouciance. And I must abstain from procuring your attention, your company.
Oh, I worry my will will not be so spry as it is now when it is put to the test.
Anyway, I earned $322 in 7 days. I'd say those were 7 days well spent and it'd be shallow if that wasn't true. But I can proudly say that it is. Even though my father's perception of my intellect is invariably damaging to my psyche and to my ego, I dare say with confidence that those 7 days were not a total waste. Nothing truly is, is it? They were not "meaningless" - his words, not mine. And if he'd stop quantifying value in terms of money or reputation, he'd see that.
They'd all see that.
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