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Venting: Right Back At You

Right back at you,

Yes, I remember you. I remember every laugh and every tear, but maybe not everything else in between. Hey, at least I admit it. I don’t have the memory of a text book, so please don’t bug me about it. I remember what I want to remember, and all of those things I don’t.

It’s not really like I had a choice. In fact you made me, so again, don’t blame me. Okay, I know I’m getting off topic here, but you were going to bring it up anyways.

Now, back to my underdeveloped memory of a single-celled prokaryote… Sorry, I just had to add that in there. It sounded like something you would say. See? I do remember.

I am not the heartless, uncaring heap of garbage you seem to refer to me as. I am a person, a person with their reasons.
And seeing that I am a person, I think you owe me. Wouldn’t you agree? Yes, good.

So, I beg of you to hear me out. Please, please don’t leave me alone…

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