At this moment, I am writing this post at the waiting room of my University’s Student Health building, awaiting for my appointment with my Psychiatrist.


My God, Let’s get this off my Chest:

I fucking hate the way my ex makes me feel.

I have no idea how she does this (I fucking do), but she makes me think and feel that I have caused every single problem between us. I am human, that may be 50% true (it takes two to make a partnership), but she makes me feel like I’m the sole reason for all of her (and my) suffering. But

I’m not, she turns these arguments around so elegantly that I begin even saying sorry for all the mistakes she had done.

(^^^^^^ Why (THE FUCK) ^^^^^^^)

She tries manipulates, instead of discussing, debating, or arguing.


Ones that do not aim to grow from their mistakes, but just sweep them under an old, unconscious rug called ignorance; ones that prefer to happily live in a lie, than to live with integrity; ones that find comfort in a given Hell, than to build their own Heaven with dignity; ones that intend to spread Hell to those around them, to claim to themselves that Heaven does not exist.

We must stand up to individuals who cloak themselves with a veil of lies perceived as the truth. For our sake, and even, for the sake of theirs. We must show them that Heaven can be built, that its foundation is knowing the truth, rather than perceiving the truth.

From the film Pulp Fiction, by Quentin Tarantino

I’m done.


Fuck you [insert ex’s name].

With Love and Sincerity,

Jose Michael Rubio

I am a future 7-time Oscar Winner, better known for my psycho-interpretation films, but I'll retire relatively young, only to continue writing screenplays in a small coastal village in Colombia. I'll allow Directors and Producers to film and produce my post-retirement stories after I pass away. In my will, the royalties will be given to the Mental Health Foundation, which will provide them with just enough money and resources to discover the cure for Alzheimer's. I'll continue winning Oscars after my death, but I will not know how many because it's past my time.

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