Hot fever.

My trip to San Francisco was bitter sweet. I'll be seeing you soon Jake. My brother told me that it was my kind of city and, he was right. Getting sick on my trip was lovely too. I feel useless. I couldn't stop thinking about the drunk conversation you had with my brother on my front porch. I was shaking with anxious nerves. Now, I'm laying on my couch with a fever. Fantastic.

Things will get better.

I hope that in the near future, your soon to be eighteen year old ass will grow up. Yeah, it sounds harsh, but i'm tired of this. I'm tired of you playing the victim card. And i'm especially tired of you being the sneaky little person i know you've always been. Thank you so much for all this time i've wasted, thank you for so much for saying things you clearly did not mean, and thank you for showing me it takes a person with a lot of balls to do the shitty things you've done to me. 

I will not, not, not, cave into you.

Garden State.

Goodluck exploring the infinite abyss.