Dear Week of Mayhem Theme,
I've been reading a lot of open letters. The idea is that you write a letter, to something you want to criticize to alleviate the stress associated with said something. It is unlikely that the addressee will ever respond, but it makes the writer feel better about the dreary situation at hand. So this one's to you my sweet, I think I owe it to you.
We started out strong, I had gobs of hope for us. I thought, "I can do this it's only a week. It won't be like those other ambitions and long lost dreams." And I tried, I swear I did. I thesaurus.comed the shit out of your last name, though you and I both know it was no contest. "Mayhem," Maaaayhem, Mayheeem, Mayhem it really rolls off the tongue huh? Just enough va-va-voom but still so modest. There's no one better, I mean that. Ugh, and that bit at the end there! The one about "Jordan's birthday", and "until then"! So much promise.
But you saw the signs didn't you? You knew when you agreed to this partnership it was doomed. I thought for sure you'd read into the officious posts about lofty goals no one cares about, the ones outlining unattainable enterprises. God, you even knew how quickly I lose interest and STILL you gave me a chance. Bless your little heart.
And I know this might be a stale saying and maybe you heard it before. Okay, stop, you're right! I know you've heard it before. But it's not you, it's me. Christ, you're right that sounded terrible. Um, you-- you were wonderful. It's just I can't do this anymore with you, it isn't working.
You see, I found myself wanting to spend less and less time with you. The things that used to excite me... recounting our days together, those silly phonetics, searching and searching for the perfect photo, it became a chore. I started to resent you, you were beginning to feel like a deadline for work. I knew I had one more post to write and it haunted me, like a pimple under the skin. I felt you breathing down my neck, I'd want to blog and know I couldn't unless I wrote about you.
And it's always about you, isn't it? You're so selfish, hogging the air time, outdoing the other posts. Poor side note couldn't even have a real title. And I'll bet that really rubbed ya the wrong way, being cast aside for a mock-screen play. I can just hear you now "Blah, blah, blah the screen play is sooo over done, you really should stick to something original." Well shove it, WOM, I won't take your abuse anymore.
I've met someone else, a few someone elses actually. And I'm in college, it's my time to experiment. I really can't be tied down to just one style like this. Take the Open Letter for example, so much room for creativity in the confines of a salutation and a sincerely! Or poetry.. "face as blank as a donut," "quiet as a bone," these are great metaphors. There really wasn't an opportunity for true lyricism with you.
I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't attack you. Take these pictures, they were meant for you. I just can't stand to look at them anymore, it's all so tragic. Please don't call.
Sincerely,
Danielle
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