The
letter that follows is a direct transcript of the conversation I had with our
host. The conversation took place much
earlier than I ever would’ve expected. I
for one am pleased at your incompetence, for your loss is forever my gain. So, with the pleasantries now surely aside,
this is the letter I’ve been asked to relay.
Dear
Self,
Go fuck yourself
“For
what now, almost forty years, and you’ve yet to live up to the hype. I swear, some of these things you conjure are
inane, and that’s me being at my politest.
Sure, plus one for imagination, even a few bonus points for
creativity. But when it comes down to
it, your skill sets are so outdated; it’s almost not worth venting. Now, say we lived in the Middle Ages or
somewhere nearer to that era of human existence, well then, you may have
thrived. Certainly your fancy ways with
words, your attention to plot and infatuation with story, these are skills that
were powerful attributes then. Hell, you
could have created some crazy, flaunted over figure, that becomes extremely
significant to world history, the kind of man who’s every word was intently
acknowledged. But, alas, knowing you as
I do, chances are that, you would’ve found the only woman in the nunnery to
possess a flaring case of syphilis…yep that sounds about right.
Your
decision-making skills are without a doubt, the worst I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t believe so wholeheartedly in your
ineptitude, I’d strongly consider the opinion that you’re working for some
other teams and/or entities, intentionally sabotaging everything. It’s very hard for me, to look squarely at
myself in the mirror, and not wonder what the hell is going on inside
there. Some days It’s like you don’t get
out of bed while others you rant nonstop about the widespread significance
regarding the angularity of leaves, as if their placement on the grass have any
bearing on anything, anything at all.
Some
days I feel you’re just fucking with me, and any moment you’ll drop a
punch-line so hilarious, all ill feelings will fall to the wayside, where we’ll
then fall back into the recliner, look to the stucco in amazement of it’s
random artistry, and just laugh ourselves into a proud felt stupor. But that moment never comes, and if it did, I
have to say, the laughter probably wouldn’t be the funny kind.
Look,
we’ve been together for nearly forty years.
You’ve failed me on so many levels it’s really not worth recounting them
all right here, right now. Yet, the time
we’ve spent together only makes this all the more difficult. I think I have to let you go. It’s just the logical step to take. And not withstanding, it’s good business to
do so now, before any more damage can be done.
So, at the end of the day, please wait by your desk. At that point I’ll have someone meet you
there, collect your access card, and escort you out the door. At which time, you’ll forever be barred from
any future contact with any of the other personas you’ve built up. Make sure you collect all of your personal
belongings, because once you are escorted away, there’ll be no returning. Your things, then and there, will be
discarded according to corporate disposal guidelines. So I repeat, don’t leave anything important
behind.
But,
knowing you as well as I do, I realize you will certainly have many questions,
to which I’ll answer some of them right now, as briefly as I can.
Yes,
it is partially my fault. I did play a
role in allowing your destructive behavior to continue. Well, there’s nothing more I can say to this
except we all make mistakes, and mine was having leniency and pity upon you,
for whatever reasons those may have been.
I
already have replaced you, and am positive {redacted} will do far more than you
ever have. Heck, any candidate off the
street would probably provide a dramatic improvement. (My name was originally
stated in this part, but for dramatic effect I thought I’d save my reveal for
the end)
Yes,
I’ll probably miss you, in some manner or form.
After all, you have basically ruled my life for nearly forty years. And in those years, you’ve woven many
intricate strands throughout me. This
will not be easy to remove. It will take
time. But it will be time worth
spending. All rebuilding projects are
not bad.
Thank
you for your service. Thank you for
literally hindering my development as a human being. And last but most certainly not least, thank
you for all those things you should have, but never did, as moving forward, the
most basic of pleasures will seem like world-shattering mysteries revealed.
Goodbye,
forever.”
Signed,
Yours
truly and always
