Dear Life

Dear Life,

If you could please fix yourself instead of
waiting on my sorry ass to do it, I
would like that now rather than
later. A job I don't loathe that pays
enough, a girl just my height and type,
more than one good friend, my own place,
you know I'd like that a lot. And while you're
at it, please purge the shit-awful
thoughts from my head, the doubt, the
anxiousness and smothering depressive
episodes, the aimless, directionless
gadding about, the addictions, and
tighten all the bolts in there - or fuck it - just
get rid of the damn thing and replace it with a
newer model, preferably a more attractive
one. Hell, let's just start from scratch and
scrap the whole damn operation. Back to the
drawing board. If you could handle that - I
mean if it's not too much trouble - that would be
great, thanks.

Sincerely,

Fuck it, change my name too