To Ketchup, with finality.

To Ketchup, with finality:

I know that she is not again with you.

But you can never know that.

May it comfort you to comprehend that to the same degree that you believe yourself to know better, you are clueless.

There is still the question of who owes what to whom.

You have lost or otherwise maimed many of my personal belongings.

This is intolerable and pathetic of a narcissist who all ready took too much.

It is not how a man behaves.

My sympathies for you wane under the memory of you.

A part of me, exceedingly hopeful, believes in some sort of reconciliation, may be if only in the Next World.

Yet to the same degree that I must carry the ARROGANCE of your supporters, even if only in a fleeting gesture, I am reminded of the Realities of This World.

Know that you have brought this hatred upon yourself.

I cannot be blamed for it.

Had it not been for my profound and otherworldly TOLERANCE I would have let you go a long time ago.

But I was patient and loyal as you never were.

You are not a man.

You are a petty, self-entitled boy.

The arbiter is loyalty. You cannot deny this.

It was what you demanded of others.

And they never lived up to your expectations.

At least I PARDONED the failings of others.

But you sought vengeance, confusing it for justice.

And that was, to use a popular idiom: a bitch move.

You brought this hatred upon yourself by trying to justify yourself.

You have failed. Your only success was in that you managed to expose your true nature. Though I was generous enough to disbelieve it.

Now each time I hear your attitude echoed in an old drunken man (who has begun finally to outgrow it) I am reminded of its brute physical reality.

Before I would have cried.

But now I know better.

I am not vulnerable to you any more because I know what you are.

And to that same degree I elect to hate you with discretion rather than love you with compassion.

And you lose the most important battle:

The one for my Soul.

Though you are too depraved and too depressed to admit that you ever needed me.

You think you know me from what I could do for you. Yet even in its greatness it is made little by your myopeia.

And you know not what I truly think of you.

Because I never told it unto you.

You simply presumed it off of letters and poems that were not addressed to you, but made privileged to you(, and against my approval!).

If ever I came near to telling you what I knew of you it was only in the heat of anger. This rage could not have found a more justified warrant.

So I tell you now:

I owe you nothing and you owe me everything.

You nearly took it all from me.

You all ways tried to hold me in your illusory debt.

And for what?

For drugs? Food? Random rides to distant places of your choice?

I will accept those as compensation for the angst: the dread of bearing with your proto-Fascistic (and ultimately Fascistic) demands.

Think not to accuse me of such demands now.

My power is entirely individuated.

And it is born out of a Love you never felt for any one.

*I* offered you a CAREER.

How many songs have you to show for our time apart?

You even forgot your own when I remembered them.

How much money have you made with music?

And how much can you say you’ve SUFFERED for it all?

You asked me why you owed me music.

It was never yours to give.

Neither was the Ocean yours to withhold.

Yet you had the nerve to accuse me of trying to possess a woman.

And yes: you laid claim to her too, with the same exploitative self-entitlement.

The fact is that you owed HER the music.

But she knew you would not give it to her.

As I know that she deserved.

Hence she called you a bitch.

I know all this.

Because I loved her.

And she understands now her mistake.

She has confessed it.

Nothing can undo that confession.

Not even if in some hellish sci-fi Universe she broke her promise to me.

And that fate, not unlike a reconciliation between you and me, is impossible in THIS WORLD as well.

Why did you need me to accord with your agenda?

Just to make it EASIER for you?

Bastard. No one cares about your agenda.

HENCE you keep it Secret!

If I did not have the sort of money that your plan required it was because I had all ready been BLED DRY by the LAST narcissistic bastard that I tried to help and totalitarian bitch I had to answer to.

I did all I could for you.

You did barely any thing for me.

And what little you did would have been made meaningless by your self-entitlement to some reward.

That self-entitlement renders it meaningless now(, even if to your mind I never repaid you).

For you took more from me than I could ever spare or pardon.

And I had all ready given you all I could give you.

It is in the nature of a parasite to blame its host.

The ego sees ego everywhere.

The hypocrite must accuse others of his hypocrisy, by nature.

The narcissist will sooner blame an Other than the Self, for to him the Other has no superior dignity than his Self.

And this mind alone is prone to disastrous confirmation bias.

So it finds constant excuses in the culture it has created.

But I see through it. I all ways have.

I DID repay you.

You simply never RECIPROCATED my RESPECT.

She called you an emotional black hole.

It is a form of parasitism. You were a Tapeworm.

And may it behoove you to know that she called you THAT as well.

You can fool some of the people some of the time, but so long as I am in the world you will not fool all of the people all of the time.

I know you too well.

You are scared and miserable.

I am not. I would not attest to Goodness were it not that I had ventured through Evil long enough to have found it.

You seem totally clueless to it.

All I wanted from you was this band.

And that was all that SHE wanted as well.

All that YOU wanted, by your own professional admission, was loyalty.

And you could not give that to any one.

Not even in exchange for trust.

I thought before I met you that altruism was intrinsic and implied: that no ideal could exist higher than the fealty of man.

I was wrong.

It is a rare gift in these times.

And it is one for which she loved me.

She can have no ulterior motive for so basic a Truth.

Perhaps it is your own irritation with your own weakness that compels you to punish what you perceive to be weakness in others.

But morality is not a weakness.

Loyalty is not a weakness.

Goodness is not a weakness.

Love is not a weakness.

Make no mistake that you behaved insolently in a Plan that was much greater than any Personal Agenda.

And I trust the Planner. You only FEAR Him. It must have dawned upon you now that when “He” seems to give you what you want it only winds you up in Hell on Earth.

I know you are unhappy.

We all do.

You never cared about what she wanted, though you tried to employ it as an excuse.

When given the opportunity to fulfill her, you passed.

Speak not to me of how I too had disrespected her wishes.

I never blamed her for what happened to me.

I blamed you. She simply refused then to believe that I had reason to.

But as time progresses the past ceases to be an excuse.

And you had none left for how you rejected my advance to reunite the band, with her as leader.

You rejected her that day. And she shall not forget that in this lifetime.

If you think a year would make her forget, think on how I loved her for two.

Is she any worse than I? Why would she be more forgetful? Do you honestly believe she values that, as you do, as a virtue?

I know most of this from her.

You cannot know it. Neither can your allies.

I have all ready won this war.

As all ways I knew I would.

And I owe you nothing. I can be MADE to owe you nothing.

Since she owes you nothing, she has no reason to be with you.

And we are free of you. In toto. Because we understand you now.

We only thought that there might ACTUALLY be some thing more.

That we’d be rewarded for our generosity of opinion in you.

This is YOUR tragedy, not mine.

Dm.A.A.