Cassettes & Chocolate Milk

I hate not being able to talk to people from your past. Not those superficial people. But those truly important people who know you better than you know yourself. Those people who spend a great deal of their time and effort, trying to convince you that you can go to the moon if you really want to. I am sad that these restrictions mean that I can never have access to my past, creativity and former self.

Nothing will ever ease this frustration. What is even more pointless about this post is that there is nothing that I particularly want to say. Ever, really. Except that I'm disappointed that these truly important people cannot muster a bare ounce of civility. At least I'm now aware that when you think of me, you do not think of milk, synthesizers and cats. You think of someone you'd rather forget.