Love, let’s strip it bare and look at the source-code of this for a bit.
My criticism, like any, is some slopped attempt at differed self-awareness.
[“most common in interpersonal criticism is the focus on attributes one finds unsatisfactory in oneself” *Strain, Dippel, et al.]
So, you’re absolutely absolut, with that full on 80 proof vodka bite,
and me and this world are trying to communicate through old 6-pin PS/2 ports,
missin’ at least one pin, ‘n it ain’t, ain’t workin’ for me.
Vid’s gone fuzzy these last few weeks,
audio’s got this head-shot crackle that won’t quit for no-one.
‘n the texts gone wingdings ‘n novelty fonts.
‘n I get this hard-drive-write feelin’ that this ain’t the kind of thing that’s done in by simple reset.
Love, I’m pushing ‘n crackin’ ‘n burstin’ through my fragmented file system,
FAT with useless data disseminated via poorly dredged architecture,
and I’m thinkin’ that maybe, maybe it’s best for that final run-down.
but i ain’t for the givin’ up,
so I get pissed instead,
‘n take it out on resolutions ‘n analogues.
intemperatetouch
