Dear Mr. Lackluster,

Fuck you. I would have ended the letter there but that would indicate I’m a lady with few words. Perhaps I’m a lady with few wholesome ones but I can assure you that I am never short of vile ones. The thought of you squirming while reading fuck you brought a tiny splash of delight to my day.  I would have left you with those two fine words -words I cherish, words you despise but then that would give you a reason to reply and frankly I could give a shit for lack of a better word. You’d prefer “care less” but I could give a shit about your haughty uptight appreciation for clean words or your mundane use of them. And while you take a gander in your safe cluster of words I will go ahead and pick pocket any insidious, undesirably yummy word I can think of just to ignite the ball of fury within what you consider a skeleton with vital organs- one being a heart. Do you have one? How do you feel? I prefer soulless, blah blah boring empty carcass. It has a better ring to it. You may not think so. You’re dead inside and so are your words. They don’t have passion or an appetite. They’re not voluptuous or sensual, nor do they drive one to sink their teeth in them. They’re not filled with lust. They’re not thirsty. They haven’t got balls or an urge. They don’t chase you until you’re out of breath. They don’t ache, desire, or tempt. They don’t penetrate the mind with emotion. They haven’t got vitality nor do they bounce about with pizazz.  In fact, your words shrivel up the moment they leave your mouth because they lack life. I suppose the only way to save your words from dying is to pop your bubble wrap containing them. I will free them. I will expose them to a tongue, which isn’t afraid to lather itself in shock and disdain- a tongue which pleasures itself in getting dirty.

Sincerely,

The girl who plays with fire

 

-m.T

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About My Write To Read

It would be difficult to imagine a world without influential writers who broke down barriers and turned complex ideas into eloquent masterpieces. I hope to become one of those writers someday. There is still a lot to learn as much as there is to write about, but I know my passion for putting thoughts and opinions on paper will help me flourish into an independent thinker and writer. Sometimes we often place ourselves outside of the world, oblivious of the effects of change, but as a writer I am striving to submerse myself into the events, catastrophes, and activities that are a part of every day, in order to understand why things are the way they are. The world is my artist and my canvas is this blog, and you? You are my audience, observer, critic, and valued reader. My Blog: https://mywritetoread.wordpress.com/

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