hello, rage.

hello, rage, it's me, nathania. we haven't met up in a while, thankfully, and the last time i can recall you even showing up for me at all was at the service of my acting classes and imagined circumstances and not as a product of my own life. i should be grateful that you are such a rare visitor, but right now quite frankly, i am not. i actually resent you and your violent mutterings when all i long for is a quiet space with kind words. your presence sullies me even though i know you are there to inform me. and so it goes: i resent you. i. hate. you. i ache you. i crunch and tear you. hoping at the very least to find apathy has been invited along to our dour party if not its distant and far superior relative, forgiveness.



hello? forgiveness? are you there yet? it's me, nathania. i'm waiting for my visit with rage to finish, but he's drawing things out quite selfishly while i tap my fingers and constantly look at the time. as he's a little blind to my hints it appears i'm stuck a little longer until you and i can meet for tea and invite your dear friend, reconciliation. be patient. don't get started without me. i'll see you both soon i hope.