notes to myself.

dear josh, pay attention.
your thought process is a small child
in a toy store.
if you haven't noticed,
you have a lot of work to do.
that's nothing new.
i understand that those faces
you draw in your head,
while you doodle others on the page,
mean something to you.
no, past tense, meant something
to you.
forgive me for bringing it up,
but what ever happened to those hopefuls?
if you ask me, they were hopeless.
indecisive, are we?
at some point, things must be decided.
else, they might end up like your thought process.
hard to follow, impossible to catch.

josh, you have got to grow up.
you can not be a little kid forever.
these trivial things won't matter when you're older.
the only thing you need to do
is this fucking work.
i know it sometimes feels like
an uphill battle,
but it must be done.
come on, if anyone, you know
about doing things you don't want to.
you've done it all your life.
you'll be doing it forever.
it's just who you are,
get used to it.
you were made to make others happy.
you knew that, didn't you?
independence, please.
get it together.

and josh, if you don't mind,
try and listen to me a little more.
sometimes i do know what i'm talking about.
you doubt me so easily.
it's frustrating.
i told you that you'd regret this procrastination.
i was right.
i told you that three was more than you can juggle.
totally right.
i told you this would pass quickly.
you'll find out soon enough.
have a little faith, please.
i mean, you trained me yourself.
i'm golden, use me.
i'd like to apologize for all the times
i won't have the answer,
and all the times i didn't have the answer.
my bad.
now, quit letting yourself be blocked.
get to work.
do some genius.
you're golden, use me.

we are not the same.