Hate Mail #2

To: hahaithinkimtoocoolforschool@gmail.com

Subject: Attn. Brain, Please stop it.

Since you have stopped responding to hard slaps and aggressive tones, I have come to the firm conclusion that other avenues of discussion need to be explored. Cordial letters such as these have often garnered positive results and seeing as how we have to maintain a working relationship within the confines of these small spaces, may I suggest a short but abrupt letter that quells our rocky relationship?

Why do our discussions always seem to tinker down, bells whistling, into tunnels of pure disillusionment? Why is it that you just cannot seem to see what I have to give to you...my soft spongey ball of squish? Everytime I try and make a point, you come bounding in high on your horse of logic and subjective fallacy. Well, excuse me cognitive function, but your not always on the ball either ok? How many times have you fucked up my good times and rock and roll just because “its not a good idea,” or because brain injury is not a feesable option for today.

Asshole.

Look, we have to come to some form of agreement ok? A set of rules by which we can both abide by and take pleasure in. This manifesto should include but not be limited to a “no piss me off” clause with a subclass category of “easy peasy.” I’ll have the barrister start the paperwork.

Whatever happened to the good ol' days of slack jawed neural branches willing to flee from their synaptic treasure caves at a moments notice? Why can't we bring that sort of mentality back? I’m getting tired of all of this “intelligence” bullshit.

Now that this letter has formally turned into one of grievances, I should make note of the throbbing headaches which you feel so inclined to share with me.

Please turn down the music Mr. Brain. No one likes all the noise and honestly the Oprah shit got old a little while ago. Call it some form of Stockholm something, but the truth is I am really starting to revel in the mess which you have so “carefully” created. *Cough*

Truth be told, I do feel a little sorry for you but GODDAMN is it ever fun to take the piss out of you. Why do you always have to be so all up in my face brain? Every goddamn day its the same tired story. Brush your teeth Husain, comb your hair Husain, make solid life decisions Husain. Over and over again, day in and day out.

Get some new material.

Now, I have this distinct feeling that once you start to read this letter you will assume your natural position of throbbing and convulsing with anger. May I suggest a prescription of deep breaths and multiple cycles of RNA coding? Our company subscribes to a solid HMO it seems.

Look I am a drama queen, this much I know. My propensity towards personality defects across the world has allowed me to perfect this state. The drama that seemingly oozes out of my pores is a time and tested scientific measure based solely upon a cynicistic MTV ideal.

I am completely aware of my defects Mr. Brain so now the question begs, are you aware of your douche-bagginess? I recognize my faults brain. You on the other hand live in a land of some fantastical holographic utopia. I think its about time we find some neutral ground.

May I suggest a cannaboid receptor? You know you waaaana. :)