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Letter (To The Earl)

Dear Big Fat White Marshmallow,

******** you.

You should lose some weight- at the very least try to go from morbidly obese to merely overweight. It’s going to kill you someday, and we know that best because we make problems out of nothing, we go to the doctor and we prescribe pills and stuff to make us live longer by eliminating something that was meant to happen after all. Yeah, that’s us- making something out of nothing since there never was anything to begin with.

We humans are a species born to die- we and the chaotic thoughtless murdering entities that we make ourselves to replace our presence in the world. We live life with a death wish in mind, and everything we do seems to reflect that, stupid as it sounds. We take drugs, we kill each other, we get so drunk we can’t see straight and walk right off a cliff.

You’re fat and ugly and wicked, the omniscient deity that we all worship in some dark little corner of our hearts because deep down where the pain and tears well up we know that you’re so right and we want to believe that.

We’re so ******** up and yet you do help us out just a little by giving us that dangerous drug called hope and getting us addicted to it like an insomniac needs narcotics. We hate you, but we need you anyways for us to indulge our selfish pretentious needs.

Love,

Humanity