Tuesday January 23rd 2007, 12:33 pm
Filed under: Hate Letters,Love Letters

To your ex-fiancé vicariously through you.

In our previous conversation, I questioned whether or not I would see the security deposit for our old apartment safely returned to my bank account. Your response was quick, saying “Maybe, if you stop squirting my friends with squirt guns.” To this, I countered your request with a bowed head and a devious smile. And even though I have no plans to blast your friends with my water guns, the thought of spraying all your friends whom I loathed brought pleasure to my mind. You then told me that if I had squirted your ex-fiancé Justin at his work, he would have jumped over the counter and kicked my ass. HA! That piece of shit dweeb you call a lover? He couldn’t get near enough to my ass to pat it, let alone destroy it. If he ever tried to be violent or physical with me, I’d destroy every living essence in his self-loathing body. This wisp of a man you call your best friend has been an enemy of mine ever since he and I met each other in San Jose. Our first introductions were quaint, yet developed underlying tones of jealousy and aggression: his words to you when he found out about our marriage was “I’ll help you sign the divorce papers”. Fuck him for such terrible benedictions. After you and I separated, he was the first person you fucked. Fuck you for that. And now, the man-child feels the need to affirm his manliness by convincing you of his reactive predictions toward me squirting him with a squirt gun. And worse, you believe in his power over me. I suppose this shows how powerless you are in Justin’s disturbingly grotesque web. Justin is a hack of a human, designed to pity himself for eternity, and you give him the pity he cries for. Why? Doesn’t his disgusting abhorrence get old after awhile? The only credit I will give the boy is that he is a talented musician. But besides his musical talents, he has nothing going for him. His wit is acute, but only wrestles with its own self-loathing to ever amount to genius. His physical features remind me of a twig with spectacles, and his prospects for a progressive future are shallow and vain. The man is a callow individual that I would never want as a friend. There’s a lot to say about a person by definition through the caliber of his enemies. Therefore, I’d be doing myself a favor not to hold this grudge towards such a lousy opponent. It is undignified to hate one who has no dignity. However, let me state this as clearly as possible: if Justin ever tried to lay a finger on me, he would experience a pain so unholy, he’ll have to have an exorcism performed on his remains just so he could have a proper Catholic burial. Sometimes I wish for such an opportunity to unleash my demons into this physical world through physical violence. However, I usually find other avenues to fulfill these evil thoughts into physical fruitions. So, if you would dear wife, let your best friend know that if he were to reach over the counter to countervail my squirt, he would regret his ever meeting me so many months ago. I thank you for relaying this honest message.

(p.s. in retrospect to re-reading this letter, I do not wish any harm to you or your friend. this letter was an outlet for my anger at the time when I wrote it.)

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