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dear god.

this is a plea. "dear god." a last-ditch attempt at "shit, i fucked this one up." again. "dear god"; i'm frustrated because someone did something stupid again, i'm rolling my eyes at ridiculous antics, i'm looking at the 70% on a math exam, i'm crying and hoping for someplace to live tomorrow.

so now, in a maybe too-tired but otherwise pretty content (if you're pulling the strings, holy shit thank you, by the way, for recent good tidings at the dawn of this new thing), i'm going to take a small moment to apologize for all the whining you get at my hands and at the hands of others.

i mean, even with the all-powerful thing, i wouldn't take your job for the world. i mean, i wouldn't even want to be the president. and that's a fleeting thing. eight years at best. i'm pretty sure you're saddled with this deity shit for an eternity.

sorry, man. so sorry.

dear god. take a vacation. it's on me.

love,
taylor