The one loss came today. And I’m not even sure if it’s a loss if I haven’t, and never did plan to have to, played. I walked in without a strategy or an aim or a care.
This is the strangest of feelings, without pain nor anger or anything negative. Such ennui is unsettling but tranquilizing at the same time. And the fact that I’m just concerned with a track record, too, is disturbing but amusing.
I hope this finds you well, if at all. You don’t have a Tumblr.
I think you think too highly of me. At least from what you know of me and what I’ve did for you. You are muddled and confused. You are misdirected and mistaken. I hope you realise you have much better things, than you think, waiting for you. There is no need to give up what you have for someone absolutely unworthy. I am (fortunately OR unfortunately) very occupied with a someone-else (whom, I very boldly suppose, is to me as I am to you).
I think the “it’s me, not you” routine is old and cliched, but unfortunately very true.
Woke up to (rather) bad news today. Mounting a passive-aggressive attack, being a strategist in this war. I let my eyes wander for a moment from the battlefield and he screws up. But at least he’s trying really hard. Trying to salvage things now; take control of the tides of the battle. I see this as preparation for the future, too. Things aren’t going to be easy; one needs the right weapons, people, tactics if one wishes to win wars.
On a much lighter note, PG Wodehouse is king. I’ve never had so much fun reading something so light.